This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally to take a step without feet.
April 30, 2011 by Rosemerry
This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally to take a step without feet.
Now I don’t want to be responsible for subverting a direct quote from Rumi, but if Rumi were talking to me, I’d advise him against prepositions:
This is love: flying toward a secret sky, causing a hundred veils to fall each moment. First, letting go of life. Finally taking a step without feet