Rise up nimbly and go on your strange journey
to the ocean of meanings where you become one of those.
From one terrace to another through clay banks,
washing your wings with watery silt,
follow your friends. The pitcher breaks.
You are in the moving river, living water.
How long will you make clay pitchers
that have to be broken to enter you?
The torrent knows that it cannot stand on the mountain.
Leave, and do not look away from the sun as you go.
Through him you are sometimes crescent, sometimes full.
Aahin 
That’s beautiful and inspiring! Can’t wait to read more.
Sure. More of Rumi coming up.
Thanks =)