wasting away

You can't get drunk on the wine of her eyes,

You can't bury your hands in her hair.

Your enemies taunt you, night and day:

'You waste away, and still she doesn't care.'

#380: From Rumi's Kolliyaat-e Shams-e Tabrizi

Key word: drunk

Still on the theme of thirst and drink, I find Rumi today in seeming despair. There are no visible or tangible results to his quest, just days and nights of longing. As my time with Rumi draws near to its end, similar questions arise in me. What have I achieved with all this? Was it mere entertainment? Have I changed in any way? Have I learned something I didn't know already? What do I have to show for my efforts?

I'm currently living inside a blank space with no answers at all but a definite gathering of questions. I can but endure it and waste away, hoping that some response will come sometime or, at least, an acceptance that a response may never come.