Some messages are timeless. This poem of Rumi, though at least seven centuries old, still resonates no matter how sanitized the morality of the day.

Dervish at the Door

A dervish knocked at a house
to ask for a piece of dry bread,
or moist, it didn’t matter.

‘This is not a bakery,’ said the owner.

‘Might you have a bit of gristle then?’

‘Does this like like a butchershop?’

‘A little flour?’

‘Do you hear a grinding stone?’ Continue reading The Dervish Dishes it Out →