As waves upon my head the circling curl,
so in the sacred dance weave ye and whirl.
Dance then, O heart, a whirling circle be.
Burn in this flame — is not the candle He?
There is a way of sitting very still and being taken up into a wonderful inner whirling.
It is this inner experience, it appears, that Rumi was trying to express in all his poetry… like candles, incense, bells and gongs, stained glass windows and magnificent pillars and spires — all are merely reminiscent of a transcendent inner experience that we try to convey with physical outer expressions. “It’s a bit like this…”
The only problem is, in the outer everything that has a beginning will have an end, and therefore all things come and go and don’t really get us where we want to be… all the way back to the beauty from which we were created.
The Real Thing, on the other hand, far exceeds our highest hopes and wishes. We can know it but we cannot describe how beautiful Reality is, for the human mind is only a thimble to the vast ocean and cannot hold it.
To know the Forever is our birthright. Joy is grounded in what never was born and will never die, is certain, regardless of our ability to physically whirl and twirl. What is ultimately Real is accessible even for the crippled, blind or deaf. There is a truly universal experience that has no limits — anyone can have it all, always, regardless of personal circumstances.
Then Jesus answering said unto them,
Go your way, & tell John
what things ye have seen & heard;
how that the blind see, the lame walk,
the lepers are cleansed,
the deaf hear, the dead are raised,
to the poor the gospel is preached.
It is beyond the body.