God’s silence can be heard in the pulse of the blood.
A thirsty man needs a cup of water, not a flood.
Men create and pursue visions — but the pursuit itself is retreat,
For the wine of love can only be obtained from the little shop in
When the Beloved's Song breaks from his Silence creating millions of
There'll be no time left for farther arithmetic of virtue plus —
Though we have to work in the sweat of our faces, there will be wine
to assuage our thirst;
Though we become silent with grief, there will be song for us, well-tuned
The Rainbow was a ray of the Beloved's sun catching the winecup's rim;
And the Beloved's choosiness is a reflection of his Original Whim.
We had refused, or were unable, in the past to obey the precepts you
So this time, in your compassion, you were silent since words could not
You talked to us through the shapes of your beautiful hands and the voice
of your eyes.
Sowing in our hearts the seeds of new words, new music, new love-talk
and new sighs.
If the Beloved gives you a sip from one of the casks of his store
Don't be like the frog who thought the sandy creek-bed was the seashore.
One man's flight is a sparrow's — from tree to tree;
Another's is a swan's — tracking eternity.
One has to serve the Perfect Master for many lives before one earns
The authority to expound the Curl Path with all its twists and turns.
If you assume authority before your appointed time
Don't be surprised if the tongue shatters the bell at its first chime
When you, beloved Wine-master, were merrily filling our glasses
We little knew that that would be included in "everything passes."
The Beloved stopped speaking so that the words which were not spoken
Will come to life in us, and the Wheel of Falsehood be broken.
If you want to find that which is imperishable, seek
The beautiful Beloved whose Silence one day will speak.
Because he is the Silence he is also the Word
Which only in our silence will be heard.