Drum sound rises on the air, its throb, my heart. A voice inside the beat says, "I know you're tired, but come. This is the way.
Bathe in the splendor of your own Light.
If thou has not seen the devil, look at thine own self.
I grow silent. Dear soul, you speak.
Tis easy to break an idol, very easy: to regard the self as easy to subdue is folly, folly.
The spiritual path wrecks the body And afterwards restores it to health. It destroys the house to unearth the treasure, And with that treasure builds it better than before.