I wearied myself searching for the friend
With efforts beyond my strength
I came to the door
And saw how powerfully the locks were bolted
And the longing in me became that strong
And then I saw that I was gazing from within the presence
Only after that waiting and giving up all trying
Did Lalla flow out from where I knelt
Gently I weep for my mind,
caught in its illusion of ownership.
Mind, you're not who you think you are.
You're dancing over a pit.
Soon you'll fall through,
And these things, you've valued
And collected will be left behind.
Total silence in which there is neither the observer nor the thing observed is the highest form of a religious mind.
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