Saturday, December 3, 2011
Dinner With Rumi
I have lived on the lip
of insanity, wanting to know reasons,
knocking on a door. It opens.
I've been knocking from the inside!
I'd love to have dinner with Rumi.
The man is onto something.
He's a gentle tap on the shoulder/ or a slap on the head?
He could talk and talk and I'd sit, very quiet,
Nodding every now and then.
Possibly over a glass of red wine and candlelight
on a Saturday night?
Posted by Betsy Jackson