"The sun is love. The lover, a speck circling the sun. A Spring wind moves to dance any branch that isn't dead. Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us. We taste only Sacredness. I stand up, and this one of me turns into a hundred of me. They say I circle around you. Nonsense, I circle around me."
The Essential Rumi, Chapter 27, Page 280, Stanzas 2, 3 & 5, (Islam, Sufi, Words of Rumi)
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