At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language-door and open the love-window. The moon won't use the door, only the window.

Oh lovers, where are you going? Who are you looking for? Your beloved is right here.

There’s a morning when presence comes over your soul. You sing like a rooster in your earth-colored shape. Your heart hears and, no longer frantic, begins to dance.

You think of yourself as a citizen of the universe. You think you belong to this world of dust and matter. Out of this dust you have created a personal image, and have forgotten about the essence of your true origin

Be occupied, then, with what you really value and let the thief take something else.

It may be that the satisfaction I need depends on my going away, so that when I've gone and come back, I'll find it at home.

Purify your eyes, and see the pure world. Your life will fill with radiant forms.