I want to be Rumi when I grow up

I want to be Rumi when I grow up.

I want to meet him in that field

beyond wrong-doing and right-doing

and sprout poetry

so non-dual that you

know you’re grown up

and that you’re Rumi now.

He whispers:

Come, come, whoever you are.

Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.

It doesn’t matter.

Ours is not a caravan of despair.

Come, even if you have broken your vow

a thousand times

Come, yet again, come, come.

I want to be Rumi when I grow up.

When the vow finally breaks through

the veil of coming and going

and we rest in what we are

before poetry

whispers our heart to remember,

to come hither, now.

 

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15 thoughts on “I want to be Rumi when I grow up

  1. I love that you say in so few words what would take me several paragraphs to say! As a poet, you know what these words speak to you. As a reader, they speak to me about the everlasting option to become our true perfect selves and once we find that self, we can always start all over again.

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