Last night, a great teacher went
from door to door with a lamp.
“He who is not to be found is the one
I’m looking for.”
Beyond wanting, beyond place, inside form,
That One. A flute says, I have no hope
for finding that.
But Love plays and is the music played.
Let that musician finish this poem.
Shams, I am a waterbird flying into the sun.
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi