In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest,
where no one sees you,
but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.
Drumsound rises on the air,
its throb, my heart.
A voice inside the beat says,
"I know you're tired,
but come. This is the way."
Are you jealous of the ocean's generosity?
Why would you refuse to give this joy to anyone?
Fish don't hold the sacred liquid in cups!
They swim the huge fluid freedom.
- Rumi