Why does the soul not fly when it hears the call?
Why does a fish, gasping on land,
but near the water,
not move back into the sea?
What keeps us from joining the dance the dust particles do?
Look at the subtle motions in sunlight.
We are out of our cages
with our wings spread,
yet we do not lift off.
We keep collecting rocks and broken bits
of pottery like children
pretending they are merchants.
We should split the sack
of this culture
and stick our heads out.
Look around.
Leave your childhood.
Reach your right hand up
and take this book from the air.
You do know right from left, don’t you?
A voice speaks to your clarity.
Move into the moment of your death.
Consider what you truly want.
Now call out commands yourself.
You are the king. Phrase your question,
and expect the grace of an answer.
Rumi
