A mysterious much-quoted Rumi poem — or maybe a mysterious Coleman Barks poem, based on a translation of Rumi? — with bits perhaps worth pondering: the complementarity of inside-outside, past-now-future, here-elsewhere, bad-good ...
|Lovers think they're looking for each other,|
but there's only one search: wandering
this world is wandering that, both inside one
transparent sky. In here
there is no dogma and no heresy.
The miracle of Jesus is himself, not what he said or did
about the future. Forget the future.
I'd worship someone who could do that!
On the way you may want to look back, or not,
but if you can say "There's nothing ahead,"
there will be nothing there.
Stretch your arms and take hold of the cloth of your clothes
with both hands. The cure for pain is in the pain.
Good and bad are mixed. If you don't have both,
you don't belong with us.
When one of us gets lost, is not here, he must be inside us.
There's no place like that anywhere in the world.
... it's credited to "Furuzanfar #425" in some sources, "translated by John Moyne and Coleman Barks" ... perhaps that's Badiozzaman Forouzanfar?