“Rabia of Basra (c.717-801) is without doubt the most popular and influential of female Islamic saints and a central figure in the Sufi tradition. She was born nearly 500 years before Rumi, and, although it’s rarely said, she, perhaps, more than any other poet, influenced his writings.” (Daniel Ladinsky, Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the Rast and West, Penguin Compass, 2002, p.1)

At the end of last year I was invited to read her poems and was caught by a line from the 7th poem by Rabia which Ladinsky includes in her section of his wonderful book.

THE SKY GAVE ME ITS HEART

The sky gave me its heart

because it knew mine was not large enough to care

for the earth the way

it did.

Why is it we think of God so much? 

Why is there so much talk about love?

When an animal is wounded

no one has to tell it “You need to heal” so naturally it will nurse

itself the best it can.

My eye kept telling me, “Something is missing from

all I see.” So it went in search of the cure.

The cure for me was His Beauty the remedy—

for me was to

love.

“The sky gave me its heart / because it knew mine was not large enough to care / for the earth the way / it did”. I stopped at the first stanza because of the grace I recognized I needed in those words. Most Sunday worships at my faith community Grain of Wheat Church-Community we have a moment to reflect on caring for creation. While I appreciate those reminders I have wondered if we need to hear so much about it. My heart needs to be enlarged…in a good way. I remember asking “Oh Love give me your heart” that morning. My journal entry included “Sure could use some of that contented happiness right now, today, and being unsettled, in desolation gives a focus – intentionally turning to light…sacred heart of Jesus is burning in me and I need it’s warmth and light…Love gave me her heart… prone to leave the God I love…take my heart and seal it…” “Love gave me her heart” is quite a bold statement and somehow it’s true. It wasn’t / isn’t a grand change in emotion or action but I sense the potential to care better is now present in me and that’s encouraging, to say the least. And the grace to ask and to believe my prayer was answered is a gift from Love. I’m at peace (see Word of 2025 blog, when it’s up) and ready to act when needed – that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

As I think more about “Love giving me her heart” I suppose that being loved by Love has somehow already imbued me with her heart. We live and move and have our being in the heart of Love. And there’s something about the asking that makes it even more real. An incarnational worldview suggests “Matter and Spirit reveal and manifest each other.” https://cac.org/daily-meditations/an-incarnational-worldview-unites-matter-and-spirit/ The older I get the less I enjoy those mind experiments that kept me intrigued for hours. I believe that ideals can become real. Wooden boys want to be real boys. Hopes and dreams can to be more than just inspiration. (sadly MLKjr.’s dream is taking a long, long time; many steps forward, and some steps back) And dreams endure, bring hope and healing … and now I’m wandering, not lost just wandering. Thanks Love, for your loving heart to do what I can and keep looking and asking for healing, which Love is more than willing to give, her way.

Thanks Rabia for encouraging me to dare to believe that Love can give me her heart so I can be a loving, healing presence in this wonderfully wild world. When I read / listen to Rabias poemsI often smiled and sometimes was shocked at her familiarity with God. I learned things and was challenged. My soul’s longing or connection with her experience of Love often welled up as tears. I found myself drawn into their mystical love relationship…thanks Rabia. I’ve found another companion to listen to on my pilgrimage.