Rumi’s Birthday

Just for today, I would like to dance at the edge of the roof
and encourage some general madness. I shall unloose a flock
of snow white doves into the sky. Failing to find doves,
I shall release eight times a hundred petty grievances instead,
set the air a-tremble with soft wings and forgiveness. I shall
throw my head back and fling my arms wide as if to embrace
the sun, the moon and all the slow-winking stars. Onlookers
will gasp and fear for my safety, “Come down!” they will cry
with upturned faces and hearty disapproval. Laughter will
erupt from my belly, and ripple over the surface of this world
like a purple banner, like a proclamation, impossible to ignore.
I am ready to renounce words. Yes. The shapes and sounds
I’ve held most dear, I have no need for now. Save only one —
Love, I will say, Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.

6 responses to “Rumi’s Birthday

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