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Last night in sleep I dreamed- yet what sleep is there for lovers?-- that I was searching inside the Kaaba for where a prayer-niche might be.

The Kaaba of the spirits, not the Kaaba which, when you reach it on a dark night, you say, "Where is candle or moon-light?"

Nay, rather its foundations are the light of the whole world, from which the rays of your spirit take light. Only how can the soul endure it?

Its hospice is all light, its carpeting is knowledge and reason, its Sufis all bewildered, where is the clatter of your shoes?

Fortunate one, the crown and throne you hold hidden in you are beyond the imagination of Kay-qobad and Sanjar and Sohrab.

Bird of heart, fly amidst the garden of its beauty, for there is a secure abode; where is snare or beating stick?

There is a gift in the midst of your body's loans; search in the middle of the soul for the gift of Giver.

Rumi, tr.A.J. Arberry, Mystical Poems of Rumi 2