rumi said

“this being human is a guest house.”

and i have spent great time in mine,

in the very beginning

slipping through

the cracks in the floorboards

after the rug was pulled out from under me.

i spent a lot of time in a painful free fall

grasping at straws

and feeling like i was alice,

tumbling down a rabbit hole only i could see.

but there’s no sense

in abandoning your own guest house, i think.

my homage to rumi is

still living in mine.

the basement still counts.