Jelaluddin 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.

I feel restless distressed disturbed

The big dark void moves closer
And all I can see is black
Not the black found underneath blankets and inside closed eyes
That which goes away with one swift motion
But the black you see outside your doors and windows
That which like quicksand
Envelops and preys on you.

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