Jalaluddin Rumi Poem - Both Wings Broken
Love draws a dagger and pulls me close.
Lock and key. Bird with both wings broken.
The love religion is all that's
written here. Who else would say this?
You open me wide open.
Or you tie me Tighter.
The ball waits on the field.
To be hit again.
You push me into fire like Abraham.
You pull me out like Muhammad.
Which do you like better?
you ask.
All the same,
if it's your hand, troubles or peace.
Friends become enemies, faithful faithless.
Some knots tighten; some loosen.
Unruly tangle of caution and rebellion,
ropes and uncombed hair, no one can tell.
Then comes the sure attention
of a mother's hand for her hurt child.