
How will you know the difficulties of being human,
if you are always flying off to blue perfection?
Where will you plant your grief seeds?
Workers need ground to scrape and hoe,
not the sky of unspecified desire.
— Rumi
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Tags: mysticism, poetry, Rumi
This entry was posted on April 14, 2011 at 9:28 pm and is filed under mysticism, poetry, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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