“We Prescribe a Friend” (Rumi)

We are wisdom and healing, roasted meat and the star Canopus. We are ground and the spilled wine sinking in.

When illness comes, we cure it. For sadness, we prescribe a friend. For death, a friend.

Run to meet us on the road. We stay modest, and we bless.

We look like this, but this is a tree, and we are morning wind in the leaves

that makes the branches move.

Silence turning now into this, now that.

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