In the style of Rumi:
Wandering thoughts venture into the wild,
the ones we sought, we thought were mild
Piled under wild aspirations, dejections, expectant attentions. remorseful rejections.
Wheeling and reeling from the punch of reality, We seek vengeance with the dope of virtuality
With thoughts coming out, like bats from a cace., we choose incantations, we whine and we rave
at everything other than the causal effect,
the root in front of us, we are swift to reject
Like seeking_ the dove, in a cave full of bats, We scour the sewers. surprised to find rats
We cling plausibly to denial, the promise of Love,
We try and we fail, but we still seek the dove
Until you choose to become, like Hafez, a Rend …. Who you may ask, is this sage, this friend?
He reflects paradox, a mix of frailty and strength Combining purpose and despair. with wisdom intense,
rebellious pray-er, in one vessel, sorrow and joy in essence
freewill destined, intoxicated ascetic, unassuming towering presence.