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I Love Poetry

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.

- Rumi-
therighttothink50 · 56-60, M
The house which is me,
So many thoughts now floating within my mind, yearning to be set free,

Each morning the window opens to the sky above,
Harkening peace, joy and love,

Welcoming them all but never yet quite seeing the horizon beyond the sea,
Searching for that elusive peaceful feeling hiding behind the tall and swaying trees,

Lost amongst the waves, yearning to be understood,
No longer asking: if, but, or why i could or should,

Without being judged or misconstrued, i long to be my true self,
Not subscribing to any book upon a shelf,

No longer yearning for the world’s approval or stamp,
Locked away in my solitary camp,

i no longer wish to be a guest in my own house, but to sit comfortably within someplace called home,
a place i could truly call my own...
.
english · 56-60, M
wow ,had to read it twice to take it all in, some say the gods are just a myth, but guess who ive been dancing with.
Portia · 41-45

 
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