I see her beauty
in the way the dirt path curves
along the river
Here’s a truth for you:
hearing – moreso than knowing –
you’re loved means alot.
The Guest House (by Rumi, translated by Coleman Banks with John Moyne; from “The Essential Rumi“)
– – – – –
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.