These forms we seem to be are cups floating in an ocean
of living consciousness.They fill and sink without leaving an arc of bubbles or any good-bye spray. What we are is that ocean, too near to see, though we swim in it and drink it in.
Don't be a cup with a dry rim, or someone who rides all night and never knows the horse beneath his thighs, the surging that carries him along.
cup and ocean
Mathnawi 1, 1109-16
Coleman Barks version