You seek God apart, without
The thing you seek, thou art,
the search for what is not lost?
Distrust the outside religion.

The Beloved is the letters, names and the book
Prophets and saints His word undertook;
Just sit still, this futile search- let go
You are the temple, the reflection and foe
Essence and form, celestial and of earth
Always eternal, in death and at birth.

If you want to see the Beloved’s face
Polish the mirror, gaze into that space
In these truths, the secrets you weave
Are your punishments, yourselves deceive.

Shams-e Tabrizi, is the world Emperor
Seekers of his grace are behind which door?
This graceful King showers you with gifts
Unbeknownst to you, your souls uplifts.
--Rumi