Life is passing all the ignorant are believing; but it is passing, to again be newly arriving. Time, a chain of days, nights... nothing else: name for breathing in and out, nothing else! And, what is this wave of breath? A sword! What is Self? The sharp edge of the sword! What is the Self? Life’s innermost mystery! It is the whole of creation waking up, to see! Self’s drunk upon others but enjoys solitude, it is the ocean that a drop all it does include.
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