Ecstatic Love is an ocean, and the Milky Way is a flake of foam floating on it.

Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.

Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu, Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion or cultural system. I am not from the East or the West, not out of the ocean or up from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not composed of elements at all. I do not exist, am not an entity in this world or the next, did not descend from Adam or Eve or any origin story. My place is placeless, a trace of the traceless. Neither body or soul. I belong to the beloved, have seen the two worlds as one and that one call to and know, first, last, outer, inner, only that breath breathing human being.

The whole business of love is to drown in the sea.

I have found the heart and will never leave This house of light.

You are an ocean in a drop of dew, all the universes in a thin sack of blood. What are these pleasures then, these joys, these worlds that you keep reaching for, hoping they will make you more alive?

There is my body, in it an ocean formed of his glory, all the creation, all the universes, all the galaxies, are lost in it.