• Poem by a 15th century Indian mystic, saint, and weaver, known as Kabir. • Translated by Robert Bly • Kabir saw religions as meaningless. He was condemned by both Hindus and Muslims; but after his death members of both religions claimed him as being of their faith.
Are you looking for me?
I am in the next seat.
My shoulder is against yours.
You will not find me in the stupas,
not in Indian shrine rooms,
nor in synagogues,
nor in cathedrals,
nto in masses,
nor kirtans,
not in legs winding around your own neck,
nor in eating nothing but vegetables.
When you really look for me,
you will see me instantly—
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.
Kabir says: Student, tell me: What is God?
He is the breath inside the breath.