What's not here

Whilst researching a poetry course I'm developing, I came across a beautiful Rumi poem.

If I chose just one sentence from this poem for its truth of expression, it would be: 

“While intelligence considers other options, I am somewhere lost in the wind.”

What’s Not Here
by Rumi (1207-73)

I started out on this road, call it
love or emptiness. I only know what’s

not here: resentment seeds, back-
scratching greed, worrying about out-

outcome, fear of people. When a bird gets
free, it doesn’t go back for remnant

left on the bottom of the cage! Close
by, I’m rain. Far off, a cloud of fire.

I seem restless, but I am deeply at ease.
Branches tremble; the roots are still. 

I am a universe in a handful of dirt,
whole when totally demolished. Talk

about choices does not apply to me.
While intelligence considers options,

I am somewhere lost in the wind.