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I am dust particles in sunlight.
I am the round sun.
To the bits of dust I say, Stay.
To the sun, Keep moving.
I am morning mist,
and the breathing of evening.
I am wind in the top of a grove,
and surf on the cliff.
The musical air coming through a flute,
a spark of stone, a flickering in metal.
Both candle and moth crazy around it.
Rose and nightingale lost in the fragrance.
I am all orders of being, the circling galaxy,
the evolutionary intelligence, the lift, and the falling away.
What is, and what isn’t.
You who know,
You the one in all, say who I am.
Say I am you.
You embrace some form
saying, “I am this.”
By God, you are not this
or that or the other
you are “Unique One”
“Heart-ravishing”
You are throne and palace and king;
You are bird and snare and fowler.
As water in jar and river are in essence the same,
You are spirit, are the same.
You, every idol prostrates before;
Your every thought-form perishes in your formlessness.
—Rumi
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