(This poem was written by Rabia of Basra, b. 717-801, a Persian Sufi poet)
The sky gave me its heart
because it knew mine was not large enough to care
for the earth the way
Why is it we think of God so much?
Why is there so much talk
When an animal is wounded
no one has to tell it, "You need to heal";
so naturally it will nurse itself the best it can.
My eye kept telling me,
"Something is missing from all I see."
So it went in search of the cure.
The cure for me was His Beauty,
the remedy-- for me
was to love.