Like a Moth to the Flame

Resuming the persona that is Kimya, I attended one of the numerous Rumi Fests taking place around the country, and indeed around the world, in celebration of the 800th birth anniversary of the Sufi Master. Last nights event was a poetry reading and storytelling event held at the Goethe Institute in Johannesburg. I walked into the venue thinking, what an awesome place for a booklaunch ;) I was alone, of course, since all and sundry had backed out of the celebratory spirit. Perhaps a good and gladdened thing, since the experience was rather personal and self-conscious. Me time. And glad I am, for that moment of many reflections..

The orator, Ashley Ramsden is the acclaimed founding director of the School of Storytelling at Emerson College in the UK, and plied his trade alongside amiable music from a local guitarist/musician. Mostly, he aluded to the translations by Coleman Barks 'The Essential Rumi', but I could relate these rather easily to the more familiar pieces in the Mathnavi and mini translations of 'Whispers of the Beloved'.. Astounding accounts of Nazruddin and Hafiz added to the colour and emotion that weaved finery together with the words hanging overhead. Most were entranced as I was. Being somewhat transported back to the reason that I first encountered Rumi, erased a moment of conspiratory coincidence. So, with my bauble of memories a newfound treasure from the past, I am ready to trudge onward smiling happily about this little secret. A rediscovery, shall we say ;) All in the name of respiritedness.. and newness and growth..

With Love and Candlelight.. Like a Moth to the Flame.. Shafinaaz.

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To hold you with my eyes may turn you into thorn,
I will not do that..
To hold you with my thoughts may turn you into scorn,
I will not do that..
I will keep you on my breath
So you will become my life!

Rumi.