Rumi......Poetry.

I start our on this road, call it
love or emptiness. I only know what's

not here: resentment seeds, back-
scratching greed, worrying about out

come, fear or people. When a bird gets
free, it doesn't go back for remnants

left on the bottom of the cage! Close
by, I'm rain. Far off, a cloud of fire.

I seem restless, but I am deeply at ease.
Branches tremble; the roots are still.

I am a universe in a handful of dirt,
whole when totally demolished. Talk

about choices does not apply to me.
While intelligence considers options,

I am somewhere lost in the wind.

Rumi