after reading “A Necessary Autumn Inside Each” by Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks
In the meadow
of the moment,
there is only here.
But just today,
I got lost on my way
to the moment. Found
some crazy detour
with arrows pointing
in opposite directions
and construction everywhere.
Wherever here is,
I was not.
And then, when I
finally met the moment
and realized I had not
been there all day,
I felt shame and regret,
which got me all
lost again. I spent hours
with a useless map
designed to get me
somewhere else
till Rumi bumped
into me, I swear
on purpose, and said
in a very small voice,
“Be ground.”
“What is that supposed
to mean?” I said,
but he was already
gone, a trail of wildflowers
coming up everywhere
he stepped.