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