a poem by Hafiz

The Seed Cracked Open

It used to be
That when I would wake in the morning
I could with confidence say,
What am 'I' going to
Do?

That was before the seed
Cracked open.

Now Hafiz is certain:

There are two of us housed
In this body,

Doing the shopping together in the market and
Tickling each other
While fixing the evening's food.

Now when I awake
All the internal instruments play the same music:

"God, what love-mischief can 'We' do
For the world
Today?"