Sometimes I am drowning in answers
thirsting for questions –
for it is the pain of not knowing
that I’ve befriended
This one speaks of separation,
that one of where union ends
another speaks of two fountains that have crashed together
and shot toward the heavens.
I have loved and longed for a bird in a gilded cage
thinking the bird on the perch was alive
Jalal’u-din is dead, Mevlana lives
yet when the cage is closed
away, the bird flies.
But when the door is open
it is the I of I who flies away
as if pain had wings
and love had weight.
