Thursday, August 23, 2012


The following poem, Finding Rumi’s Field, alludes to this poem by Rumi:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase "each other" doesn't make any sense.
~Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi - 13th century

Finding Rumi’s Field

Tell me O Wise One,
Who dwells in the watery depths
Of inky-blue fog,
Where is now?
When is here?

Take my hand,
Lead me there,
That I may dwell in the
Wisdom of eternity.

I have strayed into the future,
I have collapsed into the past,
I have lived in the land of nowhere,
Show me the way home.

O Wise One,
Who is always now,
Who is always here,
I created a future where you were not.
I wandered into a past without Wisdom.

Rumi told me of Your dwelling place
In the imagination of my dreams,
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
Take my hand,
Lead me home.

Then the Wise One
Took my hand.
The clasp of the hand
Itself is home,
Is here
Is now.

For in the clasp of the hand
We met in Rumi’s field.
We entered a space that, indeed, we never left
Except in the straying search of future and past.
We entered that space once lost in the watery depths
Of inky-blue fog.
And there,
Is a green pasture flooded with Light.
A pasture, a field, from which I strayed,
And the fog was no more.

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