I have never thought this before. I have never heard another saying it.
No ladder of enlightenment. Not for me.
My sadhana is a song. My love, my Beloved.
Grace is a night wind, softly keening, well up in the treetops. The tug in me that has always been there.
I dance inside. This world of bliss.
I care only about the places between rocks, an endless song of spheres, the silent years of space.
My sadhana is a song. My love, my Beloved. I am curled against You.
I receive You. I am of You. I play as You.