And now, a word from Jelal al-Din Rumi

As I'm feeling a bit meditative this morning, I read some poetry from Rumi. This one resonated, so I share it with you:
"A Necessary Autumn Inside Each"

You and I have spoken all these words, but as for the way we have to go, words

are no preparation. There is no getting ready, other than grace. My faults

have stayed hidden. One might call that a preparation! I have on small drop

of knowing in my soul. Let it dissolve in your ocean. There are so many threats to it.

Inside each of us, there's continual autumn. Our leaves fall and are blown out

over the water. A crow sits in the blackened limbs and talks about what's gone. Then

your generosity returns: spring, moisture, intelligence, the scent of hyacinth and rose

and cypress. Joseph is back! And if you don't feel in yourself the freshness of

Joseph, be Jacob! Weep and then smile. Don't pretend to know something you haven't experienced.

There's a necessary dying, and then Jesus is breathing again. Very little grows on jagged

rock. Be ground. Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are. You've been

stony for too many years. Try something different. Surrender.

(translated by Coleman Barks, in The Soul of Rumi, HarperSanFrancisco, 2001, p. 21)