You May Be Rich Soon

In the style of Rumi, by James Saint Cloud


Rumi communed with the Friend one day. “You may be very rich soon,” said the Friend.



“How very?” Rumi said.

“Extremely so.”

“Am I prepared for it?”

“Is anyone?”

“Prepare me then. So I'll not fall to pride.”

“Do you know what you’re asking for?”

“Well," Rumi pondered it, "I'd be asking for a willingness to give, that's clear. So it doesn’t all clog up in me, as I've seen it do in some.”

“Giving to whom?”the Friend replied.

“Exactly! How would one decide? Certainly it’s compassion I’ll be needing, lots of it, so to notice those in need. Perhaps I might be humbled some, just enough for compassion to take hold."

"Looking up from down?" said the Friend, "Not an easy habit to acquire.



“And it must be down far enough, you know. Bumping on the bottom so thoroughly, you think there'll be no coming up again from hope's deep dregs. Rumi, you’d be willing to do that?”

“If you are there, it is enough. You are the flame. I dance in you."




“I would be there, yes. Though we might lose touch a while, as hope runs dry. The dance will seem to end. Or at least you would imagine that --- that I am gone, as life becomes so brittle and about to break.



"Though in truth I'll be much closer then; in every breath of air and bite of food and step along the path; to be your sweetness in a world of thorns."

"Ah."

"As to this test of you, it will be easy to despise the rest, while you are poor, those who own what you do not. And future’s demon Fear will clutch at you, and bid you serve its whims."

Rumi waved a dismissing hand. "Material things are the clutter of a spoiled mind, like curds in milk, and those who have them fear lest they shall break. I will live in the moment, where you are, clinging to the hope of you when you seem gone and despair comes strong. And I shall tell Fear, 'No.'"

"Ready then, for the preparation you propose? Shall we begin?"

"Though I suppose," Rumi turned his head away, “I could simply decide I'll not be like the rest, once I have my new-found wealth. Not like them, complacent, proud, hidden in their sense of self. ‘Feasting at the tavern of annihilation’ as they do. Not sharing much of anything. So sad! Though they seem quite jolly as they do.”

“All needs met!” grinned the Friend, "And most of what they want."

“Though wants proliferate," Rumi shrugged, "like flies from fruit. Wanting ever more the more one has! No. Best I be prepared, or pride will take me for a prize, and sure, when I am rich as that. As long as you'll be with me, all is well."

"I will be the spirit in you, yes, reaching out to every face you pass for any offered kindness or succor. And together we shall bless them as they give! Then when your testing's done and you'll be flush with worldly wealth, I'll be the spirit reaching out again, this time to discern the ones in need. For you to make their path a moment sweet --- that blessing so few rich go searching for! That shall be our joy and common work: To lighten hearts like suns, where storm and rain have been so long."

"Ah. Even so," Rumi mused, "Such trouble, all that poverty. What if I forgo the test? Would it really be so dangerous? What do you foresee?"

"That you'll abandon me."

"Never!"

“Oh yes. Wealth will be clogged up in you, just as you said. You'll be feasting in the dark with your eyes closed tight. Only seeing me those rare moments you step outside yourself to look around. For curiosity's sake, or else security's.



"Then back inside to feast again, little troubled by commotion on the street, the multitudes. So many wishing to have crumbs from you!



"And I'll be one of them.”


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Copyright 2009 by James Saint Cloud
thealicecode@gmail.com