Saeed Ordoubadi

Once upon a time, there was no light, no shadow, and no color.  There was nothing but darkness.  Then Soul spoke: not in words, but in light and color and the image came into being.  “Soul speaks in the language of images,” a wise man said a long time ago and I have been striving to learn that language to understand her when she speaks and to share my dreams with her.

Everywhere I worked, there were lots of lights, day and night.  The lights, however, were all artificial, the colors unreal, and the images appeared fake. The Soul language was not spoken.  I felt Rumi’s frustration with every cell of my being: In the world of the blind and the deaf, I had a dream to share, but I was dumb.  Then my retirement came, and with that came my rebirth and learning of a new language.

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