Words, even if they come from
the soul, hide the soul, as fog
rising off the sea covers the sea,
the coast, the fish, the pearls.
It's noble work to build coherent
philosophical discourses, but
they block out the sun of truth.
See God's qualities as an ocean,
this world as foam on the purity
of that. Brush away and look
through the alphabet to essence,
as you do the hair covering your
beloved's eyes. Here's the mystery:
this intricate, astonishing world
is proof of God's presence even as
it covers the beauty. One flake
from the wall of a gold mine does
not give much idea what it's like
when the sun shines in and turns
the air and the workers golden.
Rumi
art by claude monet
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