In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that light becomes this art. – Rumi, as interpreted by Coleman Barks

If these poems repeat themselves, then so does Spring. – Rumi

What I most want is to spring out of this personality, then to sit apart from that leaping. I’ve lived too long where I can be reached. – Rumi