From the endless ocean of love comes all rivers and streams.
Too large for the human mind. Small enough to fit inside One Heart. Turn upwards toward that source.
The pool is not the ocean; nor is the trickle of the stream the rushing river. Toward the ocean set sail the boat of self and break the ideal of the smaller to reach the larger.
One reaches the ocean by leaving the stream. But the waterway, like ladders, are useful only by leaving the rung. False piety holds to the forms and stays in the stream. The truly pious leave the Ideal once reached; and yearn/move-toward, and become the replaced perceived.