Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge of driftwood along the beach, wanting! They derive from a slow and powerful root that we can’t see. Stop the words now. Open the window in the center of your chest, and let the spirits fly in and out. – Rumi, as interpreted by Coleman Barks

My head is bursting with the joy of the unknown. My heart is expanding a thousand fold. – Rumi, translated by Shahram Shiva

Even when tied in a thousand knots, the string is still but one. – Rumi