I pulled a thorn from the fence of His garden,
and it has not stopped working its way into my heart.
One morning a little of His wine
turned my heart into a lion hunter.
It’s right that this separation He helped me feel
lurks like a monster within my heart.
Yet heaven’s wild and unbroken colt
was trained by the hand of His love.
Though reason is learned and has its honors,
it pawned its cap and robes for a cup of love.
Many hearts have sought refuge from this love,
but it drags and pulls them to its own refuge.
Words: Mevlâna Jalâluddîn, "The Pull of Love" in The Pocket Rumi, Translated by Kabir Helminski. (Shambhala, 2001) Read more here.
Image: Photography by Diane Walker