, , , , , , , ,

“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.”


I’m so full of ‘right’

it stuffs me rigid

from head to toe

because I think I know


if I cut it out

I’ll leave an ugly hole

and who knows then

what’ll step in to fill it?


if I melt it

what else will burn

as my shape disintegrates

into the unrecognisable?


flowing away

into a mush of nothingness –

but I’ve got a backbone,



What if I listen to it?

nod my head

make friends with ‘right’

and ask it to leave


Perhaps not leave,

but maybe if I listen

it might listen to me

and give me room to bend a little


Rumi my friend

I’m on my way

it’s just I’m still kinda stiff

so I walk slowly


when my ‘rightness’

has softened enough

I’ll head for your field

at a run