It’s the Rumi poem with the ugliest title. The real meaning of the poem doesn’t suit my purposes, and I’m not quoting the whole thing, because the “Better than cabbage soup” line spoils the mood for me.
For some reason.
Before Poet Joey accuses me of a literary sin, I have a defense: religious words have such a long history of selective pruning to suit the purposes of the selector, I have plenty of precedent.
For the record, I like cabbage soup. It’s just not evocative of a Rumi mood.
If your mind and stomach
burn with the fire of hunger
it will be like a heavenly song for your heart.
In each moment that fire rages
It will burn away a hundred veils
And carry you a thousand steps
toward your goal.
and weep with the fullness of the reed flute.
and discover the mysteries of the reed pen.
The (out-of-context part of a) poem seems to say it all for me. Sometimes, when something is your only option, it’s a whole lot easier to make a success of it. If the obstacle to your goal is what stands between you and food in your belly, pushing past that obstacle becomes world’s easier.
How do you stoke the fire in your belly? What makes it easy for you to push past that which is hard? Which obstacles are you thankful for?