Be Certain That In The Religion Of

The Heart Has Its Own Language. The Heart Knows A Hundred Thousand Ways To Speak.

Open Your Arms If You Want The Beloved's Embrace.

God Picks Up The Reed-flute World And Blows. Each Note Is A Need Coming Through One Of Us, A Passion, A Longing Pain. Remember The Lips Where The Wind-breath Originated, And Let Your Note Be Clear. Don't Try To End It. Be Your Note.

You Have Been Hiding So Long Aimlessly Drifting In The Sea Of My Love Even So You Have Always Been Connected To Me Connected, Revealed In The Known In The Unmanifest I Am Life Itself

When Love Is Not Accepted Move On; When Love Is Not Appreciated Walk Away; Hopefully Time Will Teach What Real, True Love Is.