Of Rumi & Spring

It is, as I walk the blue dusk.

And it is the sweet river twisting, coursing through my room, from an open window.

And in the morning, though fainter still, weaves itself the rousing, waking scents of everything.

And though I’m but old, it is my first spring.

So I do not curse but prize all wounds
that let the fragrance in.


10 thoughts on “.

      1. Thank you. That means a great deal to me. I’m grateful for the moments of inspiration and that you see it as beautiful. I think to express something that strike others as beautiful is for me one of the main reason for writing.


Thank you :-)

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