Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing,
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.

- Rumi


Friday, July 15, 2011

White Funeral

Let us make a coffin,
Neatly painted in snow white,
With Lilly buds all over,
Let us engrave my name onto it
With your's at the end,
Let me place into it all that was left unsaid,
Every single breath,
Moments of magic,
All the long pauses,
The deep ocean of our silence,
Utterances in between the muteness,
The plucked jasmine petals.
Join me in the funeral
Of what we watered all these years,
Lets uproot our plant
And destroy all its seeds,
Together lets pray
That our restlessness finds rest in our coffin of eternal silence!

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