Birdwings by Rumi

Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror

up to where you are bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,

here’s the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see.

Your hand opens and closes, and opens and closes.

If it were always a fist or always stretched open,

you would be paralyzed.

Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding,

the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated

as birdwings.

Recent Posts

On a day when the world is weighty, dark and dense with need, I want to be the earthworm that gives itself over to tunneling, its every...

“I like to [tell people to] do it before you get out of bed,” Boykin said. “Take three deep breaths, and then [ask yourself], ‘How do I...

Be mindful of intention. Intention is the seed that creates our future. - Jack Kornfield