Sky on a stormy Sunday

Outside my window, magnolia-laden trees tremble wildly under relentless rain.

In Nairobi, 22 colleagues of grassroots social movements were arrested this morning, as they drank tea in a kiosk. They were charged with belonging to an "illegal movement." They're out on bail now, but have been ordered to report to a Nairobi police station on Tuesday. A police station, not a court. So they can be disappeared? Surreal deja-vu to the days of fear and repression we thought we'd emerged from in 2003.

And Cate drops Rumi into my inbox. Gleaming pomegranate rubies:

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. To let go of life.

Gamble everything, if you're a true human being. Half-heartedness doesn't reach into majesty. You set out to find truth, but then you keep stopping for long periods at mean-spirited roadhouses.

Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.

--
الله معك