Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you’d be paralyzed.
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as bird wings.
Rumi lived from 1207-1273; that's a long time ago. Amazingly his poetry is just as easy to relate to in 2011 as it was then. He was a prolific writer and you could probably read his poetry everyday for a lifetime and not finish it all!
There are so many poems that touch me deeply, but I'm choosing this today because it speaks to this present moment. The stark reality of impermanence; the ebb and flow of experience; the gentle reminder to let go of both the joy and the grief; the deep comfort that all is well.
Everything balanced and coordinated as bird wings...