The ocean of Reason is not seen; reasoning men are seen; but our forms (minds) are only as waves or spray thereof. Whatever form that ocean uses as its instrument, therewith it casts its spray far and wide.
Till the heart sees the Giver of the secret, till it espies that Bowman shooting from afar, it fancies its own steed lost, while in bewilderment it is urging that steed hither and thither.
It fancies its own steed lost, when all the while that swift steed is bearing it on like the wind. [MATHNAWI]
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