the nothing of roselight

death comes, and what we thought
we needed loses importance.

the living shiver, focused
on a dark muscular hand,
rather than the glowing cup it holds
or the toast being proposed.

in that same way love enters
your life, and the I, the ego,
a corrupt, self-absorbed king,
dies during the night.

let him go.
breathe in the cold air,
the nothing of roselight.

~rumi