…… To Rumi
Beyond my door which faces west
Lives a woman who'll never rest.
She likes to tease my nomad soul
With words she keeps for gloomy fall.
But now she flies across the sky,
And tries to find a place too high
To paint it blue for me to look
And tie my heart like horse to hook.
I dive in blue or fly in beams.
Some say it's love. I say my dreams.