“How could the soul not take flight
When from the glorious Presence
A soft call flows sweet as honey,
And whispers, “Rise up now, come away.

How could the Sufi not start to dance,
Turning on himself, like the atom in the sun of eternity,
So he can leap free of this dying world?Fly away, fly away, bird, to your native home.
You have leaped free of the cage,
Your wings are flung back in the wind of God.”