The Wandering

My wish;
To be lost in my hands
Joined,
Lost in this prayer
Without return
To the place in which
I need to be found
To travel from field to field
In Rumi’s meeting place
And just as I went deeper
The light from the bulb
In my passage
Breaks through a gap
In my hands
That play host to horizon
The rising sun of reality
The truth of wandering
Through right and wrong
Wrong and right
Day and night
Until I raise the hosts
Once more
In the faith
That this wandering becomes easier to take...