Bird Song from Inside the Egg

 There is an excess is spiritual searching that is profound ignorance. Let that ignorance be our teacher. The friend breathes into one who has no breath. A deep silence revives the listening and the speaking of those two who meet on the river bank. Like the ground turning green in a spring wind, like the birdsong beginning inside the egg. Like this universe coming into existence, the lover wakes, and whirls in a dancing joy, then kneels down in praise.- Rumi