My thoughts will keep running wild,
Until they arrive at the field Rumi talked about,
Where he’ll meet me,
The one away from the ideas of the wrongdoing and right doing,
They’d run until that moment.

When they get there,
I’d lie in the grass, and the world would be too full to talk about.


That’s the place my thoughts keep running to find,
But instead, they find poems,
I don’t even find it surprising,
If Rumi wanted me to find him in that field,
Then there has to be a way to get there.

I have grown to believe,
My poems, will take me to him,
My verses will guide me.
Maybe someday
I’ll sit reading my poems,
One after another,
The verses will all come together,
Like directions,
Every poem will make sense,
Like a map.

And maybe my wild running thoughts,
Would come to a pause in that moment,
When they’ll finally find the way,
To that feild,
Where Rumi would be.

When they get there
I’d lie in the grass, and the world would be too full to talk about.

© Samridhi Dutta

No part of this blog shall be republished without prior permission