Take sorrow’s hand

Mawlana Rumi of green leaves and yellow leaves, sorrow is a cloud that hovers around a budding sun. It does want to change the earth around a heap of faith, it found my roots and shook the sand off them, it gave me no room to grow but I found 66 letters lying in a careless wind of old. A little dimmed light reminds me of time, of the crispy writings that can bake patience, so yes I let it become an earthquake or a tsunami, or a hurricane. Whatever it becomes, I am going to allow it shake me till my bones lose their thread and hold no light.

Ruddapoet