The sea will be the sea, whatever the drop's philosophy...
My heart holds within it every form,
it contains a pasture for gazelles,
a monastery for Christian monks.
There is a temple for idol-worshippers,
a holy shrine for pilgrims;
There is the table of the Torah,
and the Book of the Koran.
I follow the religion of Love
and go whichever way His camel leads me.
This is the true faith;
This is the true religion.
Those who don’t feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don’t drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don’t want to change,
let them sleep.
This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
I you want to improve your mind that way,
sleep on.
I’ve given up on my brain.
I’ve torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.
If you’re not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,
and sleep.
Not a believer inside the mosque, am I
Nor a pagan disciple of false rites
Not the pure amongst the impure
Neither Moses, nor the Pharoh
Bulleya! to me, I am not known
Not in the holy Vedas, am I
Nor in opium, neither in wine
Not in the drunkard’s intoxicated craze
Neither awake, nor in a sleeping daze
Bulleya! to me, I am not known
In happiness nor in sorrow, am I
Neither clean, nor a filthy mire
Not from water, nor from earth
Neither fire, nor from air, is my birth
Bulleya! to me, I am not known
Not an Arab, nor Lahori
Neither Hindi, nor Nagauri
Hindu, Turk, nor Peshawari
Nor do I live in Nadaun
Bulleya! to me, I am not known
Secrets of religion, I have not known
From Adam and Eve, I am not born
I am not the name I assume
Not in stillness, nor on the move
Bulleya! to me, I am not known
I am the first, I am the last
None other, have I ever known
I am the wisest of them all
Bulleh! do I stand alone?
Bulleya! to me, I am not known
It's okay not to have New Years resolutions
It's okay not to have big goals for your life
It's okay not to have plans you want to
Manifest
It's okay not to chase your dreams
That path is not for everyone
Some walk the path of
Unbecoming
They are traveling the road
Backwards
Seeking the core
What is basic and essential
What has been there all along
Though we may be headed the same direction
Our spirals are mirror opposites
Some walk the path of the visionary
Creating abundance and
Dancing inside a multiplicity of forms
And Some walk the path
of the serpent owl
Becoming more and more naked
Shedding layers of fantasy into the ash
Night sky
Sitting in the dark
And seeing the way the wind moves
They do not walk a line or
poise their arrow to the target
They sit at the bottom of the ocean
And wait
Letting the waves devour them
They are following the pulse
of listening
To silence
Like a tiger in the brush
Waiting for existence to strike lightening
Into the fire of the heart
For this kind
Nothing less will do
Some are opening the palms of their hands
And unraveling
To become
Less and less
Until they are
No-Thing
To become the still point
In the center of
All
You know who you are
Keep going
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