Listening to the bell I feel the afflictions

in me beginning to dissolve.

My mind calm, my body relaxed,

a smile is born upon my lips.

Following the sound of the bell, my breath

brings me back to the safe island of

mindfulness.

In the garden of my heart,

the flowers of peace bloom beautifully.

- Thich Nhat Hanh

You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin.
Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;
cook, your blood is quick as the soil.
Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.

Your eyes go out toward the water, and the waves rise;
your hands go out to the earth and the seeds swell;
you know the deep essence of water and the earth,
conjoined in you like a formula for clay.

Naiad: cut your body into turquoise pieces,
they will bloom resurrected in the kitchen.
This is how you become everything that lives.

And so at last, you sleep, in the circle of my arms
that push back the shadows so that you can rest--
vegetables, seaweed, herbs: the foam of your dreams.

Pablo Neruda

And a man said, Speak to us of Self-Knowledge.
And he answered saying:
Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.
You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.

And it is well you should.
The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea;
And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes.
But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;
And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.
For self is a sea boundless and measureless.

Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."
Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."
For the soul walks upon all paths.
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

Kahlil Gibran

I'm neither beautiful nor ugly
neither this nor that

I'm neither the peddler in the market
nor the nightingale
in the rose garden

Teacher give me a name so that I'll know
what to call myself

I'm neither slave nor free neither candle
nor iron

I've not fallen in love with anyone
nor is anyone in love with me

Whether I'm sinful or good
sin and goodness come from another
not from me

Wherever He drags me I go
with no say in the matter

Rumi