There is no reality but God , says the completely surrendered sheik, who is an ocean for all beings.

I have one small drop of knowing in my soul. Let it dissolve in your ocean.

I am the glorious sun, the ocean laden with pearls. Within my heart is the grandeur of heaven.

Daylight, full of small dancing particles. Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?

God (in His mercy) accepts false coin.

Tender words we spoke to one another are sealed in the secret vaults of heaven. One day like rain, they will fall to earth and grow green all over the world.

The Ripe FigNow that You live here in my chest,anywhere we sit is a mountaintop.And those other images,which have enchanted peoplelike porcelain dolls from China,which have made men and women weepfor centuries, even those have changed now.What used to be pain is a lovely benchwhere we can rest under the roses.A left hand has become a right.A dark wall, a window.A cushion in a shoe heel,the leader of the community!Now silence. What we sayis poison to someand nourishing to others.What we say is a ripe fig,but not every bird that flieseats figs.