Two Poets

You know what it’s like - surely you do – you introduce one of your bestest friends to another bestest friend, hoping for something wonderful.. and they shake hands warmly, greet each other, then find nothing to say.. so you leave the room, hoping that they’ll start by saying something about you, then find how much else they have in common; if you come back, and they’re talking so vigorously that they soon leave together, forgetting you… a little child in you may be sad a moment, but the grown-up will rejoice that great things may come of it… but if you come back, and there’s still a strained silence… and later, each of them implies they can’t understand why you like that other one so much… that’s why I’m a little fearful of introducing Rilke and Rumi to each other… since they both live in a place where I’d like to walk too, and listen to them talking to each other.. but suppose they didn’t get along, I don’t think I could bear to hear why not… All this in my head, chatting with my heart… and not the movement of an eyeball to tell you this. You’ll understand, I hope, now that I’ve mentioned it. There’s love somewhere there.