There's a way of passing away from the personal
A dying that makes one full
We're given the gift of continuously dying and being resurrected
Lovers are alive to the extent they can die
Fill your jug in the river!
Some nights stay up till dawn
The moon sometimes does for the sun
Be a full bucket, pulled up
The dark way of a well, then lifted out to the light
All I know of Spirit is this love.
- Rumi
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