Attending to Attar, Day 8
You are drunk with passion. You speak of mysteries. Those around you fall silent to hear your words. You are the lover, the one who suffers in delight at the heart’s bursting in song. Every song reveals a new mystery to the listener’s ear. Those who hear are intoxicated with joy. They reel in ecstasy, releasing seeds of love across the world. Seeds are sown. Roses bloom. You cannot leave these fields of passion to enter the room within. Love’s delusion binds you to your existence. You do not go within. You cannot leave your delights.
Do not be fooled by love’s form. Beneath the rose lies the thorn. When petals drop, the thorny stems leave you torn and bloody. The fragrant bloom taunts you in the early spring, laughing at your passion, then abandons you in winter. Season after season you choose to sit in the garden of delight instead of embarking on the journey home.
