You left ground and sky weeping, mind and soul full of grief. No one can take your place in existence, or in absence. Both mourn, the angels, the prophets, and this sadness I feel has taken from me the taste of language, so that I cannot say the flavor of my being apart.

You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life?

Drink from the presence of saints, not from those other jars.

What shall I say, O Muslims, I know not myself, I am neither a Christian, nor a Jew, nor a Zoroastrian, nor a Muslim.

Apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.

Make peace with the universe. Take joy in it.

There is a light seed grain inside. You fill it with yourself, or it dies.