RUMI DAYS

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. ...

This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unex...

War Path, by Alfred Jacob Miller I have no vocation but this, and no need to touch every rose and thornpoint. You are seeing through my ey...

Without a net, I catch a falcon and release it to the sky, hunting God. This wine I drink today was never held in a clay jar. I love this...

I see my beauty in you, I become a mirror that cannot close its eyes to your longing. My eyes wet with yours in the early light. My mind e...

Elephant, by Julia Watkins Some Hindus have an elephant to show. No one here has ever seen an elephant. They bring it at night to a dark ro...

You are the living marrow. The rest is hay. Dead grass does not nourish a human being. When you are not here, this desire we feel has no tr...