Drawing on the ancient notion that "in the beginning was the sound," Rumi once put it this way :
WHERE EVERYTHING IS MUSIC We have fallen into the place where everything is music. The strumming and the ute notes rise into the atmosphere, and even if the whole world's harp should burn up, there will still be hidden instruments playing. So the candle ickers and goes out. We still have a piece of int and a spark. This singing art is sea foam. The graceful movements come from a pearl somewhere on the ocean oor. Poems reach up like spindrift at the edge of driftwood along the beach, wanting! They derive from a slow and powerful root that we can not even see. Stop the words now. Open the window of your chest, and let the spirits y in and out. ~Rumi
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Whriling dervishes, Rumi Fest