No one knows what makes the soul wake up
so happy! Maybe a dawn breeze has blown
the veil from the
the veil from the
face of God.
A thousand new moons appear.
Roses open laughing.
Hearts become perfect rubies like
those from Badakshan.
Hearts become perfect rubies like
those from Badakshan.
The body turns entirely to spirit.
Leaves become branches in this wind.
Why is it now so easy to surrender,
even for those already surrendered?
There's no answer to any of this.
There's no answer to any of this.
No one knows the source of Joy.
A poet breathes into a reed flute,
and the tip of every hair makes music.
Sham sails down clods of dirt
A poet breathes into a reed flute,
and the tip of every hair makes music.
Sham sails down clods of dirt
from the roof, and we take jobs
as doorkeepers for him.
~Rumi
~Rumi
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