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I'm in Grad School. In a small town surrounded by nothing but agricultural fields for hours in any direction. How did that happen?

Oh, and P.S. -- Everything except the occasional poem is locked, so if you are interested in reading my journal, please introduce yourself. I'm kind of shy and private, and I don't generally add people to my reading list unless I have some idea of where they are coming from. Thank you.

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.

I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life.
Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,
What a bargain, let's buy it.

Daylight, full of small dancing particles
and the one great turning, our souls
are dancing with you, without feet, they dance.
Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?

All day and night, music,
a quiet, bright
reedsong. If it
fades, we fade.

--Jelaluddin Rumi, Spring Giddiness