God picks up
the reed-flute world
and blows.
Each note is a need
coming through one of us,
a passion,
a longing-pain.
Remember the lips
where the wind-breath
originated,
and let your note be clear.
Do not try to end it.
Be your note.
I’ll show you how it is enough.
Go up on the roof at night
in this city of the soul.
Let everyone climb onto the roofs
and sing their notes.
Sing loud.
--Jalaluddin Rumi
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