Rumi, Guest House
(translation by Coleman Barks)
(translation by Coleman Barks)

These are poems collected by my beloved Marie. I wish not to tax my life with forethought of grief and to look for the warmth on my back to calm me and make me glad.
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry
I was sleeping, and being comforted
By a cool breeze, when suddenly a gray dove
From a thicket sang and sobbed with longing
And reminded me of my own passion.
I had been away from my own soul so long,
So late-sleeping, but that dove's crying
Woke me and made me cry.
Praise to all early-waking grievers!
~ Adi al-Riga
Do not be surprised that the return of the light lifts your spirits. Do not be surprised that warmth on your back calms you and makes you glad. Feel your spirits lift as the sun rises higher in the sky: this is part of you, this snaky gladness, part of who you have been for a million years. Find the warm places; do not expect them to come to you. When you find them, stay there and be still. Be still and watchful. In this quiet, taste the air. Lick up the taste of it. Listen. Listen with the full length of your body against the ground.
~ Wild Comfort: The Solace of Nature by Kathleen Dean Moore