I am still left with the question of why It happened.

It haunts me every day and every night.

Why is there Light?

What does it mean?

What purpose does it serve?

Why is God asleep?

Where are the Heroes, other than myself?

I’ve done a hero’s work to come through the darkest night-sea journey I’ve ever heard of, read, or witnessed.

Why...where...what...and how, how is it justified?

Sweetness, too, is an illusion detracting from that Nameless thing that calls me.

When I have reached it, the world won’t even know I have gone. I’ll be walking down the street, speaking with friends, working, sleeping, playing...”Aren’t you here?” their sleeping selves would ask, if ever I tried to explain. “How do you leave the world while being in it? the more curious would ask.

No one will know my answer. As Kabir says, it’s too simple.

An illusion calls to you, asking, “Friends, do you understand me?”

This illusion I used to call my self.