For sixty years I have been forgetful,
every minute, but not for a second
has this flowing toward me stopped or slowed.
I deserve nothing. Today I recognize
that I am the guest the mystics talk about.
I play this living music for my host.
Everything today is for the host.
1 comment:
Oh to be sixty, soon to be sixty. I'm glad Rumi made it and what a feast he offers.
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