Love is the way and the path, our Prophet.
Of love we are born, love is our mother.
Our mother, love, is hiding in our veil,
Hiding from our unbelieving nature.

The patience of a rose close to a thorn
keeps it fragrant. It's patience that gives milk
to the male camel still nursing in its third year,
and patience is what the prophets show to us.

Rumi