Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.
Let yourself be drawn by the stronger pull of that which you truly love.
Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.
Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your own myth.
The human shape is a ghost made of distraction and pain.
Sometimes pure light, sometimes cruel,
trying wildly to open,
this image tightly held within itself.
SIFTER OF DUST
Suppose you know the definition of all substances and their products,
what good is this to you?
Know the true definition of yourself.
That is essential.
Then, when you know your own definition, flee from it,
that you may attain to the One who cannot be defined,
O sifter of the dust.