For the first time in my life, I have discovered a poem that perfectly describes my experience with Truth (god, goddess, the infinite, the universe, or whatever you wish to call it):
The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day.I have spent my days in stringing and unstringing my instrument.
The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart.
The blossom has not yet opened; only the wind is sighing by.
I have not seen its face, nor have I listened to its voice; only I have heard its gentle footsteps from the road before my house.
The livelong day has passed in spreading its seat on the floor; but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask it into my house.
I live in the hope of meeting with it; but this meeting is not yet.
-- Rabindranath Tagore, from Gitanjali, 1911
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