All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, Iโm sure of that,and I intend to end up there. Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks. I didnโt come here of my own accord, and I canโt leave that way. Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home.
RumiMount the stallion of love and do not fear the path, loveโs stallion knows the way exactly. With one leap, Loveโs horse will carry you home.
Rumi