There is a life in you, search that life, search the secret jewel in the mountain of your body.
Burdens are the foundations of ease and bitter things the forerunners of pleasure.
There is a basket of fresh bread on your head, yet you go door to door asking for crusts.
Body of earth, don't talk of earth Tell the story of pure mirrors The Creator has given you this splendor-- Why talk of anything else?
I become a waterwheel, turning and tasting you, as long as water moves.
Oh soul, you worry too much. You have seen your own strength. You have seen your own beauty. You have seen your golden wings. Of anything less, why do you worry? You are in truth the soul, of the soul, of the soul.