“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere

They’re in each other along

Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love

Don’t grieve

Anything you lose comes round in another form

The wound is the place where the light enters you

When you do things from your soul, you fell a river moving in you

A joy

Your task is not to seek for love

But merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it

Our beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing there is a field

I’ll meet you there

When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about

Let the beauty we love be what we do

If you are irritated by every rub, how will be polished?

Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open?”

————— Rumi


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