Saturday, June 23, 2007

More Rumi Poems

The way of love is not
a subtle argument.

The door there
is devastation.

Birds make great sky-circles
of their freedom.
How do they learn it?

They fall, and falling,
they're given wings.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A road might end at a single house
but it's not love's road.

Love is a river.
Drink from it.