Hidden in shadows, the light caught on the parachute of a dandelion, the most ubiquitous of weeds. There it was, shyly fluttering alone in the breeze, tucked under the forest’s edge. If there was no darkness, how would the light be so beautiful? Only in the contrast does the treasure show forth.
“This is the divinely-inscribed Book. This is the outspread Tablet. Say, this indeed is the Frequented Fane, the sweet-scented Leaf, the Tree of divine Revelation, the surging Ocean, the Utterance which lay concealed, the Light above every light… Indeed every light is generated by God through the power of His behest. He of a truth is the Light in the kingdom of heaven and earth and whatever is between them.”
(The Bab, Selections from the Writings of the Bab, p. 154)