There is no worse sickness for the soul, O you who are proud, than this pretense of perfection. The heart and eyes must bleed a lot before self-compl… - Rumi

WONDER WITHOUT WILLPOWER

Love’s way becomes a pen sometimes writing g-sounds like gold or r-sounds

like tomorrow in different calligraphy
styles sliding by, darkening the paper

Now it’s held upside down, now beside
the head, now down and on to something

else, figuring. One sentence saves
an illustrious man from disaster, but

fame does not matter to the split tongue
of a pen. Hippocrates knows how the cure

must go. His pen does not. This one
I am calling pen, or sometimes flag,

has no mind. You, the pen, are most sanely
insane. You cannot be spoken of rationally.

Opposites are drawn into your presence but
not to be resolved. You are not whole

or ever complete. You are the wonder
without willpower going where you want.

Two there are, who are never satisfied; The lover of the world and the lover of Knowledge.

Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absentminded. Someone sober will worry about things going badly. Let the lover be.