Sunday, August 14, 2011

There is a sun-star rising outside the reality of form.
I am lost in that other beauty.

The body is a boat ,
and I am waves swaying against it.

Whenever it anchors somewhere,
I pull it loose, or smash it to pieces.

If I get lazy and cold,
flames come from my ocean and surround me.
I laugh inside them like gold purifying myself.

- Rumi

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