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.

Whatever purifies you is the right path, I will not try to define it.

Lovers are patient and know that the moon needs time to become full.

In the sea of love, I melt like salt Faith, Doubt - they both dissolve. A star is opening in my heart . The worlds turn in it.

The Prophets accept all agony and trust it For the water has never feared the fire.

The Beloved is with you in the midst of your seeking! He holds your hand wherever you wander.

Oh you, unceasing sun, to me Your particles communicate The luminous essence of God, Are you our God? I do not know. Intoxicated, I say nought, Bewitched by the magic potion. I cannot differentiate Between my drunk and sober state.