Monday, February 24, 2014


 Today I am fighting one of those colds that makes every thing foggy and distant. If there is any clarity for me then it is this poem by Rumi.

A Voice Through the Door

Sometimes you hear a voice through the door calling you,
as fish out of water hear the waves,
or a hunting falcon hears the drum’s “Come back. Come back.”
This turning toward what you deeply love saves you.
Children fill their shirts with rocks and carry them around.
We are not children anymore.
Read the book of your life, which has been given you.
A voice comes to your soul saying,
Lift your foot. Cross over.
Move into the emptiness of question and answer and question.

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