Kabir


There’s a moon in my body, but I can’t see it
A moon and a sun.
A drum never touched by hands, beating,
and I can’t hear it.
As long as a human being worries about when he will die,
and what he has that is his, 
all of his works are zero.
When affection for the I-creature and what it owns is dead,
then the work of the Teacher is over.
The purpose of labor is to learn;
when you know it, the labor is over.
The apple blossom exists to create fruit;
when that comes, the petal falls.
The musk is inside the deer, but the deer does not look for it:
It wanders around looking for grass.

According to the saint and poet Kabir the sweet-smelling musk or kasturi is in the navel of the deer but the deer goes vainly searching for its fragrance everywhere in the forest. In the same way God dwells within us but we search for him everywhere else. 

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