“Be helpless, dumbfounded,Unable to say yes or no.Then a stretcher will come from grace to gather us up.We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.If we say we can, we’re lying.If we say No, we don’t see it,That No will behead usAnd shut tight our window onto spirit.So let us rather not be sure of anything,Beside ourselves, and only that, soMiraculous beings come running to help.Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,We shall be saying finally,With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,We shall be a mighty kindness.”

“Some Hindus have an elephant to show.No one here has ever seen an elephant.They bring it at night to a dark room.One by one, we go in the dark and come out saying how we experience the animal.One of us happens to touch the trunk.A water-pipe kind of creature.Another, the ear. A strong, always movingback and forth, fan-animal. Another, the leg.I find it still, like a column on a temple.Another touches the curve back.A leathery throne. Another, the cleverest,feels the tusk. A rounded sword made of porcelain.He is proud of his description.Each of us touches one placeand understands the whole in that way.The palm and the fingers feeling in the darkare how the senses explore the reality of the elephant.If each of us held a candle there,and if we went in together, we could see it.”

“Each moment from all sides rushes to us the call to love. We are running to contemplate its vast green field.Do you want to come with us?”

“If we come to sleepwe are His drowsy onesAnd if we come to wakewe are in His handsIf we come to weepingwe are His cloud full of raindropsAnd if we come to laughingwe are His lightning in that momentIf we come to anger and battleit is the reflection of His wrathAnd if we come to peace and pardonit is the reflection of His loveWho are we in this complicated world?”

“Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us: We taste only sacredness.”

“All day I think about it, then at night I say it.Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?I have no idea.My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,And I intend to end up there.This drunkenness began in some other tavern.When I get back around to that place,I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.The day is coming when I fly off,But who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?Who says words with my mouth?Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?I cannot stop asking.If I could taste one sip of an answer,I could break out of this prison for drunks.I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.I don't plan it.When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups.That's fine with us. Every morningWe glow and in the evening we glow again.”

“We gather at night to celebratebeing human. Sometimes we call out lowto the tambourine. Fish drink the sea,but the sea does not get smaller! Weeat the clouds and evening light. Weare slaves tasting the royal wine.”