Born With Wings

Rumi was a 13th-century Persian poet who wrote about the soul's longing to return to its source.

He used birds constantly — the reed flute crying for the reed bed it was cut from, the bird separated from its origin, the soul that has forgotten what it is.

This is the gentlest challenge he ever posed. Not an accusation — a question. Why do you prefer to crawl?

Because crawling is safe. Crawling is close to the ground. Wings are for heights you've never been, in winds you can't predict, above everything familiar.

But you were made for it.

The whole thrust of Rumi's poetry is this: you already have what you need. The longing you feel is the proof — you wouldn't ache for something you weren't built for. The wings exist. They've always existed.

The question is only whether you'll use them.