God’s presence is there in front of me,
a fire on the left, a lovely stream on the right.
One group walks toward the fire, into the fire,
another toward the sweet flowing water.
No one knows which are blessed and which not.
Whoever walks into the fire
appears suddenly in the stream.
A head goes under on the water surface,
that head pokes out of the fire.
Most people guard against going into the fire,
and so end up in it.
Those who love the water of pleasure, and make
it their devotion, are cheated with this reversal.
The trickery goes further.
The voice of the fire tells the truth,
saying, “I am not fire. I am fountainhead.
Come into me and don’t mind the sparks.”
If you are a friend of God, fire is your water.
You should wish to have
a hundred thousand sets of mothwings,
so you could burn them away, one set a night.
The moth sees light and goes into fire.
You should see fire and go toward light.
Fire is what of God is world-consuming.
Water, world-protecting.
Somehow each gives the appearance of the other.
To these eyes you have now what looks like water burns.
What looks like fire is a great relief to be inside.
- Rumi


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