The now is a whirling Dervish; it whirls and it worlds.

The Dervish sees; the Dervish sees,

A seeing that hides; a seeing that shows,

A seeing that lets be; a seeing that lets go,

One veils; one unveils,

One is the farthest; one is the nearest,

One is the eye; one is the I.

But, alas, how easily the trance slips past our hasty glance!

The Grand Magician told us this secret:

Yearn and remember,

The truth is not in holding; it is in withholding

He looked away and sighed,

This world is a mirage in the vacant gaze of the One