The Wait

[Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field.

I will meet you there.

#Rumi ]

She will wait for me

under the Gulmohur tree.

She will wait, alone

when the fire turns chrome

and leaves are falling all around,

closing chapters for autumn.

Wait she will

though her hands turn numb

in the -embers of the chill,

and the Gulmohur is covered with snow.

She will bear, I know

the summer heat:

She will be sitting there

by the Gulmohur's feet,

waiting for me to come soon.

And I shall come there one day in June,

when the air has a slight haze of rain,

and the old Flame shall blaze again.