can't see the forest for the trees
A lover pressed his suit unsuccessfully for many months, suffering the atrocious pains of rejection. Finally his sweetheart yielded. "Come to such-and-such a place, at such-and-such an hour," she said to him.
At that time and place the lover finally found himself seated beside his beloved. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of love letters that he had written to her over the past months. They were passionate letters, expressing the pain he felt and his burning desire to experience the delights of love and union. He began to read them to his beloved. The hours passed by, but still he read on and on.
Finally, the woman said, "What kind of fool are you? These letters are all about me and your longing for me. Well, here I am sitting with you at last, and you are lost in your stupid letters."
"Here I am with you." says God, "and you keep reflecting about me in your head, talking about me with your tongue, and searching for me in your books. When will you shut up and see?"
from THE SONG OF THE BIRD, by Anthony deMello, Page 101
"The Talkative Lover"