Whatever gives pleasure
is the fragrance of the Friend.
Whatever makes us wonder
comes from that light.
What is inside the ground
begins to sprout
because you spilled wine there.
What dies in autumn comes up in spring,
because this way of saying no
becomes in spring your praise-song, yes.
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At the request of a Rumi Reader, I have enabled comments, because I agree that someone, sometime might want to write about the power of Rumi's words. So many times they have met me in ways I just have to share, and so I want you to have that opportunity here. There is no expectation for comments, but please do write something if you feel the urge. ~ Ruth