I love this, too, Joan. It reminds me of a Rumi poem a little, one that I keep posted in my writing room.
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” –
do not make any
sense.
I hope you were able to meet yourself in rest. What a lovely idea.
I love this, too, Joan. It reminds me of a Rumi poem a little, one that I keep posted in my writing room.
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” –
do not make any
sense.
I hope you were able to meet yourself in rest. What a lovely idea.
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I love this!
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