Sing it, Rumi!

God picks up the reed-flute world and blows.

Each note is a need coming through one of us,

a passion, a longing-pain.

Remember the lips

where the wind-breath originated,

and let your note be clear.

Don’t try to end it .

BE Your Note.

I’ll show you how it’s enough.

Go up on the roof at night

in the city of the soul.

Let Everyone climb on their roofs

and sing their notes!

Sing loud!


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