A once new, now old chapter has closed in my book of love. Another has come and gone leaving my heart more dry than before. There remains fertile ground there, but it becomes more scarce with each who professes love and then forsakes me. E.H.

Love is the One who masters all things;
I am mastered totally by Love.
I am ground sweet as sugar.
O furious Wind, I am only a straw before you;
How could I know where I will be blown next?
What is any of us but a straw in a storm?
How could anyone make a pact with a hurricane?
In the hand of Love I am like a cat in a sack;
Sometimes Love hoists me into the air,
Sometimes Love flings me into the air,
Love swings me round and round His head;
I have no peace, in this world or any other.
The lovers of God have fallen in a furious river;
They have surrendered themselves to Love’s commands.
Like mill wheels they turn, day and night, day and night,
Constantly turning and turning, and crying out.
From “LOVE IS THE MASTER” by Rumi