now a plate of rice

This supreme joy has no resting place -
It enters one form then another,
from box to box – an eternal movement
between heaven and earth.

Here it comes, pouring down from the sky,
seeping into the earth,
and rising up again as a bed of roses.

Now it is water, now a plate of rice,
Now the swaying trees, now a horse and rider.
It lies within these forms for awhile
then bursts forth to become something new.

excerpt from Rumi: Ghazal (Ode) 1937
version by Jonathan Star via sunlight

Ah, yes, the numinous can appear in the most unlikely places.

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