#mysticism

Do not go to the garden of flowers! O friend! go not there; in your body is the garden of flowers.

When the drop merges into the ocean, all understand it. But when the ocean merges into the drop, rare is the one who grasps it.

Listen to the secret sound, the sound that is all around. When you hear that sound, everything is clear.

The physician took my pulse and shook his head; he did not know that my sickness was the sweet longing for the Divine.

When the mind is silent, the unstruck sound (*Anahata*) fills the universe with heavenly harmony.

The rose blooms amidst sharp thorns yet shares its fragrance with friend and foe alike; be like the rose.

The ocean never runs dry because it receives all streams with open arms; expand your heart to hold all beings.

The cloud gives rain without asking whose field it waters; let your benevolence be unconditional.

I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or parcel of God.

God enters by a private door into every individual.

I have learned so much from God that I can no longer call myself a Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Buddhist, a Jew. The Truth has shared so much of Itself with me that I can no longer call myself a man, a woman, an angel, or even a pure soul.

When I am silent, I fall into the place where everything is music.

Drink your wine in the sanctuary of peace.