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.