Daylight, Full Of Small Dancing Particles. Can

I Want To Sing Like The Birds Sing, Not Worrying About Who Hears Or What They Think.

This Place Is A Dream. Only A Sleeper Considers It Real. Then Death Comes Like Dawn, And You Wake Up Laughing At What You Thought Was Your Grief.

Not Christian Or Jew Or Muslim, Not Hindu, Buddhist, Sufi, Or Zen. Not Any Religion Or Cultural System. I Am Not From The East Or The West, Not Out Of The Ocean Or Up From The Ground, Not Natural Or Ethereal, Not Composed Of Elements At All. I Do Not Exist, Am Not An Entity In This World Or The Next, Did Not Descend From Adam Or Eve Or Any Origin Story. My Place Is Placeless, A Trace Of The Traceless. Neither Body Or Soul. I Belong To The Beloved, Have Seen The Two Worlds As One And That One Call To And Know, First, Last, Outer, Inner, Only That Breath Breathing Human Being.

I Have Been A Seeker And I Still Am, But I Stopped Asking The Books And The Stars. I Started Listening To The Teaching Of My Soul.

I Opened My Arms To Love And Love Embraced Me Like A Lover