DANCE OF THE TAO'D SOUL Sunrise/Afternoon May 13, 2016

IT IS WHAT IT IS
WITHOUT EXPLANATION IN HUMAN TERMS
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JUST IS
ew
11:44 PM-5/12/16

THE TAO’D SOUL SOURCES MIND
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GENTLE DANCE OF COSMIC GRACE
ew
5:08 AM-5/13/16

In love, nothing exists between heart and heart.
Speech is born out of longing,
True description from the real taste.
The one who tastes, knows;
the one who explains, lies.
How can you describe the true form of Something
In whose presence you are blotted out?
And in whose being you still exist?
And who lives as a sign for your journey?

     Rabia al-Adawiyya
https://wahiduddin.net/sufi/sufi_poetry.htm

"All you can do now is to relax into this no-thingness..
...fall into this silence between the words...
...watch this gap between the outgoing and incoming breath.
And treasure each empty moment of the experience.
Something sacred is about to be born."
OSHO
http://www.happycow.org.uk/inspiration/quotes_osho_random.shtml

The whole nature expresses its deep touch with its own source.
Life is a swing;
there is one swing where life touches its innermost being
and brings that out to the material world, striking every heart.

In the waxing and waning of the moon,
the changing tides of the sea,
the alternate seasons
there is a period when nature breathes downward
and dives up something
that is most beautiful and appealing to the heart.
Hazrat Inayat Khan
http://hazrat-inayat-khan.org/php/views.php?h1=44&h2=21

Our souls are only created to dance;
it is their nature to dance
and it is the tragedy of life when the soul is kept from dancing.
Our craving for comfort and outward satisfaction, our ambition,
our desires are nothing but the longing
to experience that dance, as we know it.
Paradise is pictured by every teacher as a place where there is music and dance. Music itself is dance, poetry is the dance of words, singing the dance of the voice. Only when inspiration comes naturally
it is a life coming from the depth of the individual.
Hazrat Inayat Khan
http://hazrat-inayat-khan.org/php/views.php?h1=44&h2=21

In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, "This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers."

      Farid ud Din Attar, translation by Andrew Harvey and Eryk Hanut - 'Perfume of the Desert' 
https://wahiduddin.net/sufi/sufi_poetry.htm