From Rumi:
WALKINGSTICK DRAGON
I want to dance here in this music,
not in spirit where there is no time.
I circle the sun like shadow. My
head becomes my feet. Covered with
existence, Pharaoh, annihilated, I
am Moses. A pen between God-fingers.
a walkingstick dragon, my blind mind,
taps along its cane of thought. Love
clings to no thought. It waits with soul,
with me, weeping in this corner. We’re
strangers here where we never hear
yes. We must be from some other town.
Not being ready yet to welcome our lives unconditionally, let’s cultivate gratitude for the fiery love within that is already saying YES to it all.