What better poet to honor on a Jewish holiday than a Sufi Muslim mystic?
For that matter, this poem by Rumi strikes me as particularly Buddhist:
A Just Finishing Candle
A candle is made to become entirely flame.
In that annihilating moment it has no shadow.
It is nothing but a tongue of light
describing a refuge.
Look at this
just finishing candle stub
as someone who is finally safe
from virtue and vice,
the pride and the shame
we claim from those.
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