" The moon splits open.
We move through, waterbirds rising
to look for another lake.

Or say we are living in a love-ocean,
where trust works to caulk our body-boat,
to make it last a little while,
until the inevitable shipwreck,
the total marriage, the death-union.

Dissolve in friendship,
like two drunkards fighting.

Do not look for justice here
in the jungle where your animal soul
gives you bad advice.

Drink enough wine so that you stop talking.
You are a lover, and love is a tavern
where no one makes much sense.

Even if the things you say are poems
as dense as sacks of Solomon's gold,
they become pointless. "

― Rumi , Bridge to the Soul: Journeys Into the Music and Silence of the Heart