from the common stock of Hindu religious ideas, and illuminated
by his poetic genius--movement, rhythm, perpetual change, forms
an integral part of Kabîr's vision of Reality. Though the
Eternal and Absolute is ever present to his consciousness, yet
his concept of the Divine Nature is essentially dynamic. It is
by the symbols of motion that he most often tries to convey it to
us: as in his constant reference to dancing, or the strangely
modern picture of that Eternal Swing of the Universe which is
"held by the cords of love." [Footnote: No. XVI.]

It is a marked characteristic of mystical literature that the
great contemplatives, in their effort to convey to us the nature
of their communion with the supersensuous, are inevitably driven
to employ some form of sensuous imagery: coarse and inaccurate as
they know such imagery to be, even at the best. Our normal human
consciousness is so completely committed to dependence on the
senses, that the fruits of intuition itself are instinctively
referred to them. In that intuition it seems to the mystics that
all the dim cravings and partial apprehensions of sense find
perfect fulfilment. Hence their constant declaration that they
see the uncreated light, they hear the celestial
melody, they taste the sweetness of the Lord, they know an
ineffable fragrance, they feel the very contact of love. "Him
verily seeing and fully feeling, Him spiritually hearing and Him
delectably smelling and sweetly swallowing," as Julian of Norwich
has it. In those amongst them who develop psycho-sensorial
automatisms, these parallels between sense and spirit may present
themselves to consciousness in the form of hallucinations: as the
light seen by Suso, the music heard by Rolle, the celestial
perfumes which filled St. Catherine of Siena's cell, the physical