Move your hair in the light.
Let it scatter amber,
as the souls of sufis begin
to dance, sun, moon, and stars,
around us in a circle.
We are dancing their dance.
A slight melody
enters the great wheel
and helps it turn.
Rumi
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Watch the dust grains moving
in the light near the window.
Their dance is our dance.
We rarely hear the inward music,
but we're all dancing to it nevertheless,
directed by the one who teaches us,
the pure joy of the sun,
our music master.
Rumi
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