Which dreamlike wishes to unfold
Into a thousand mirrors --
The Cosmos' drunken Play will never halt.
Such is the soul --
The dance of its desires, where will it lead?
Thoughts and impulses
Which flee from their own playfulness.
But finally, O heart,
Around the Highest all this play will turn;
No longer here and there --
A gopi love-dance of the good and wise.
And Krishna's Flute
Will be, unseen, within thy heart;
A song of Love
And Light -- the God-filled wine of Paradise.
~ Frithjof Schuon