This came to me on a lonely night walking down Hollywood Boulevard. I sang it as a prayer. I sang it over and over. I am so grateful. It helped me through a tough night. May it bring the same for all of you.
You know I'm down on my knees,
and I'm begging, "Oh, Lord, please. Have mercy..."
I may sing this again tonight. Let us sing it together.
Thank you. Thank you, spirit.
My Father sent me your poem. Thank you, Rumi. Thank you, father.
Love is reckless; not reason.
Reason seeks a profit.
Love comes on strong,
consuming herself, unabashed.
Yet, in the midst of suffering,
Love proceeds like a millstone,
hard surfaced and straightforward.
Having died of self-interest,
she risks everything and asks for nothing.
Love gambles away every gift God bestows.
Without cause God gave us Being;
without cause, give it back again.
I love you.
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