God Calls Himself "baseer" [observant], So That

I Wish I Could Give You A Taste Of The Burning Fire Of Love. There Is A Fire Blazing Inside Of Me. If I Cry About It, Or If I Don’t, The Fire Is At Work, Night And Day.

In The Silence Between Your Heartbeat Bides A Summons. Do You Hear It? Name It If You Must, Or Leave It Forever Nameless, But Why Pretend It Is Not There?

Love's Creed Is Separate From All Religions.

People Are Distracted By Objects Of Desire, And Afterwards Repent Of The Lust They've Indulged, Because They Have Indulged With A Phantom And Are Left Even Farther From Reality Than Before. Your Desire For The Illusory Is A Wing, By Means Of Which A Seeker Might Ascend To Reality. When You Have Indulged A Lust, Your Wing Drops Off; You Become Lame And That Fantasy Flees. Preserve The Wing And Don't Indulge Such Lust, So That The Wing Of Desire May Bear You To Paradise. People Fancy They Are Enjoying Themselves, But They Are Really Tearing Out Their Wings For The Sake Of An Illusion.

We Are The Mirror As Well As The Face In It. We Are Tasting The Taste This Minute Of Eternity. We Are Pain And What Cures Pain Both. We Are The Sweet Cold Water And The Jar That Pours.