I Am A Poet Who Composes What

There Are Those Who Give With Joy, And That Joy Is Their Reward. And There Are Those Who Give With Pain, And That Pain Is Their Baptism. And There Are Those Who Give And Know Not Pain In Giving, Nor Do They Seek Joy, Nor Give With Mindfulness Of Virtue; They Give As In Yonder Valley The Myrtle Breathes Its Fragrance Into Space. Through The Hands Of Such As These God Speaks, And From Behind Their Eyes He Smiles Upon The Earth.

When You Reach The Heart Of Life You Shall Find Beauty In All Things, Even In The Eyes That Are Blind To Beauty.

And One Of The Elders Of The City , Said , Speak To Us Of Good And Evil. And He Answered : You Are Good In Countless Ways , And You Are Not Evil When You Are Not Good .

Say Not, 'i Have Found The Truth,' But Rather, 'i Have Found A Truth.' Say Not, ' I Have Found The Path Of The Soul.' Say Rather, 'i Have Met The Soul Walking Upon My Path.' For The Soul Walks Upon All Paths. The Soul Walks Not Upon A Line, Neither Does It Grow Like A Reed. The Soul Unfolds Itself, Like A Lotus Of Countless Petals.

Much Of Your Pain Is The Bitter Potion By Which The Physician Within You Heals Your Sick Self.