discussion post on Sat, July 26, 2008 - 5:01 PM
November 5, 2007
For a dervish every day feels like Friday, the beginning of a holiday.
a fresh setting out that will not have an end. Dressed in the soul's handsomeness,
you're a whole month of Fridays, sweet outside, sweet in. Your mind and your deep
being walk together as friends walk along inside their friendship. Debris does not stay
in one place on a fast-running creek. Your soul's
eye watches a spring-green branch moving, while these other eyes love the old stories.
-- Rumi (for my spinning friend the dervish)
