Something about Valentine’s Day brings out the poet in me. Or rather inspires me to read poetry by those who write it, which I don’t. Okay maybe the occasional naughty limerick, but we are not going there.
Instead I offer you a verse by Hafiz, the 14th century Persian mystic and poet, in praise of the heart–even when–especially when–it may be broken.
Don’t look down on the Heart
Even if it is not behaving well,
Even in that shape,
the heart is more precious
than the teachings of exulted sultans
The broken heart is where God looks
How lucky is the soul that mends the heart!
For God, consoling the heart
that is broken into hundreds of pieces
is better than going on a pilgrimage.
God’s treasures are buried in ruined hearts.
And of love’s labors, two announcements:
1. The fledgling Santa Ynez Valley Botanic Garden, where the willow wreaths above were made, is growing more wonderful by the day. You can follow the Santa Ynez Valley Botanic Garden on Facebook , and
2. The baby we’ve been waiting for–the one I wrote about yesterday who was taking so long we feared he might go straight from hospital to third grade–arrived early this morning, and our hearts are just about to bust. He and his mama are doing fine, and he begins third grade tomorrow.