Opinion, analysis and confessions of a dark-skinned American African woman.
Great question. Lots of things come to mind but, first, this poem of Rumi's.The New RuleThere's an old rule that drunks have to argueand get into fights.The lover is just as bad. He falls down a hole.But down in that hole he finds something shining,worth more than any amount of money or power.Last night the moon camedropping its clothes in the street.I took it as a sign to start singing.Falling up into the bowl of sky.The bowl brakes. Everywhere is falling everywhere.Nothing else to do.Here's the new rule: break the wineglass.And fall toward the glassblower's breath.
The bowl breaks!
What do you feel about what you just read?