How can the soul not soar when from the majesty of glory, a sweet message reaches it like sugar?
Just as a fish quickly leaps from dryness when it hears the sound of waves from the clear sea.
Why wouldn't the falcon fly towards the king when it hears the call to return from the drum and leather?
Why wouldn't every Sufi dance like a particle in the sun of eternity to be freed from decay?
Such delicacy, beauty, and life-giving grace—who could turn away from it? Alas, what misery and error.
Fly, fly, oh bird, towards your origin, for you have escaped the cage and your wings are open again.
Travel from the salty water to the water of life, return to the throne of the soul from the ranks of the soles.
Go, go, for we too will arrive, oh soul, from this world of separation to that world of union.
How long, like children, shall we fill our skirts with dust, stones, and shards in this earthly realm?
Let us abandon the dust and soar to the heavens, escaping childhood towards the gathering of men.
Do not see what the earthly body has done in your sack; tear open the sack and lift your head from it.
Take this letter from the air with your right hand, not like a child who cannot distinguish right from left.
God told the messenger of wisdom to lift his foot and told the hand of fate to rub the ear of greed.
A call came to the soul: become spirit in the unseen, do not lament, take the treasure, and no longer suffer.
You call out and proclaim that you are a sovereign; you have the grace of response and the knowledge of inquiry.