I hear the song of the nightingale.
The sun is warm, the wind is mild,
willows are green along the shore,
Here no bull can hide!
What artist can draw that massive head,
those majestic horns?
When one hears the voice, one can sense its source. As soon as the six senses merge, the gate is entered. Wherever one enters one sees the head of the bull! This unity is like salt in water, like color in dyestuff. The slightest thing is not apart from self.
We have seen the mind
Realization that everything separate from the self is the self
Teachers at every corner
Ultimately us talking to our self
Telling our self what we need to know
If we look for causation, we will fail
If we accept synchronicity, we will succeed