The River’s Medicine

My Worst Habit, Rumi

My worst habit is I get so tired of winter
I become a torture to those I’m with.

If you’re not here, nothing grows.
I lack clarity. My words
tangle and knot up.

How to cure bad water? Send it back to the river.
How to cure bad habits? Send me back to you.

When water gets caught in habitual whirlpools,
dig a way out through the bottom
to the ocean.

There is a secret medicine
given only to those who hurt so hard
they can’t hope.
The hopers would feel slighted if they knew.

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