Maybe it hasn't taken you as many whuppins as it took Rumi to arrive at a godly suspicion of your hankerings, itches and desires.
Who makes these changes?
I shoot an arrow right.
It lands left.
I ride after a deer and find myself
Chased by a hog.
I plot to get what I want
And end up in prison.
I dig pits to trap others
And fall in.
I should be suspicious
Of what I want.
This poem is available in a number of books, including The Essential Rumi
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