Cradle my Heart

Rumi

Last night,

I was lying on the rooftop,

thinking of you.

I saw a special Star,

and summoned her to take you a message.

I prostrated myself to the Star

and asked her to take my prostration

to that Sun of Tabriz.

So that with his light, he can turn

my dark stones into gold.

I opened my chest and showed her my scars,

I told her to bring me news

of my bloodthirsty Lover.

As I waited,

I paced back and forth,

until the child of my heart became quiet.

The child slept, as if I were rocking his cradle.

Oh Beloved, give milk to the infant of the heart,

and don’t hold us from our turning.

You have cared for hundreds,

don’t let it stop with me now.

At the end, the town of unity is the place for the heart.

Why do you keep this bewildered heart

in the town of dissolution?

I have gone speechless, but to rid myself

of this dry mood,

oh Saaqhi, pass the narcissus of the wine.

Rumi writes perfectly about longing; deep, spiritual longing. Here, He lies under the night sky and sends a message through a star to the Beloved, asking to be transformed, healed, and brought closer to light. He reveals his scars, his restlessness, and his vulnerability without holding anything back.

At the centre of the poem show an image of the “child of the heart.” The heart is fragile, like an infant that needs to be soothed and nourished. The speaker admits that he cannot calm or sustain himself alone, he depends on the Beloved for comfort and meaning.

The poem moves between yearning and surrender. It questions why the heart feels separated from unity, yet it ends in silence: a quiet acceptance that some longing cannot be solved with words.

Ultimately, this depicts that longing itself is sacred. It is painful, but it is also what keeps the heart alive.

Morningside Park | September 25, 2025