This is love:
To fly toward a secret sky,
To cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.
First, to let go of life.
In the end, to take a step without feet;
To regard this world as invisible,
And to disregard what appears to be the self.
Heart, I said, what a gift it has been
to enter this circle of lovers,
To see beyond seeing itself,
To reach and feel within the breast.
—Rumi
