❤️ Dispatch #1: Leaving and Welcoming

Two poems and a question.

As I pack my things and prepare to depart the District of Columbia,

I wanted to share some of my heart with you.

The first poem is an original, inspired by a dream. 🌹

The second poem, courtesy of Rumi. 🦋

The question, an inquiry into where you are right now. 🍇

Enjoy.

Photo by Mantas Hesthaven on Unsplash

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Things Taken, Things Left Behind

As you prepare for your next departing,
what will you take?
What will you leave behind?

You’ve
lost,
found,
loved,
grieved.

As this cocoon melts,
will you fix your gaze backwards,
or forwards?

A rose is outstretched,
bud closed tight.
Waiting for rain,
waiting for sun.

Your hand is in mine,
my hand relaxed,
like a deer caught in the lion's jaw.

Will you close your fingers?
Will you accept the last great grief of your life?

---

The Guest House

by Jalaluddin Rumi

Translated by Coleman Barks

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

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A Question

As you move into this season of harvest,

what are you taking with you,

and what are you leaving behind? 🍁

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