This flower of self really has to lose all its petals, it really has to drop away before the next movement starts to happen.
—Adyashanti, Spontaneous Awakening
At first I tried to keep them attached,
then tried to tear them off,
these petals of self.
Sweet flower, said Rumi,
Be still. The petals fall
as it’s time for them to fall.
But, I said, shouldn’t I DO
something? He smiled,
and pointed to the darkening
sky where hail was forming
in the afternoon clouds.
I love how it ends, that image of the clouds, the hail, the real danger.
I don’t think you need that “At first” at the first of the poem. First of all, there’s only two things. Secondly, the word “tried” would get better emphasis up front. And thirdly (since I forced myself to have a third one with my first comment),
the attempts take on greater longevity in the speaker’s life, not just from the point of this moment. So there. Three things. But it’s a fine one.