Used under the Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 Generic licence
Some nights stay up till dawn
as the moon sometimes does for the sun.
Be a bucket filled, pulled up the dark way of a well
then lifted out into light.
Something opens out wings,
something makes boredom and hurt disappear.
Someone fills the cup in front of us,
we taste only sacredness.
~thirteenth century Persian poem