Lost in my own silence time passes slow
my voice within repeats the same, strange
how language is pointless and yet
I choose one, to speak words without sound.
I am most naked alone and quiet I found
stripped of looks and gestures I flow
in between the seconds of the clock
as it marks the days’ time, strange
how time matters and yet
I choose to let it go,
lost in the words without sound-
“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.”
― Jalaluddin Rumi