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.
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,
here,
Now,
Is
a green pasture flooded with Light.
A
pasture, a field, from which I strayed,
And
the fog was no more.
