(first stanza from a poem by Rumi)

There is a passion in me
that doesn't long for anything
from another human being.

I am quite content to
touch hands and have
them be my own.

I am quite content to need
only from myself
on some days and on other

days I look up at the
open sky and see the shy
sun shining back at me

through its gold lens.
Tomorrow, maybe, I'll
venture out with people

I might dare to love
but for today, I will sit under
the pine tree writing this

passion in me, a love
letter written
on my bedsheet.

05/22/2006

Posted on 05/22/2006
Copyright © 2026 Lisa Marie Brodsky