Thursday Poem

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

When the soul lies down in the grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.

Jelaluddin Rumi (1207-1273)

from A Book of Luminous Things
Harcourt (Harvest Books) 1993
transaltion: Coleman Barks and John Moyne