I Never Discuss Discussions.

I Am The Vessel. The Draft Is God's. And God Is The Thirsty One.

You Are Merely The Lens In The Beam. You Can Only Receive, Give, And Possess The Light As The Lens Does. If You Seek Yourself, You Rob The Lens Of Its Transparency. You Will Know Life And Be Acknowledged By It According To Your Degree Of Transparency - Your Capacity, That Is, To Vanish As An End And Remain Purely As A Means.

So Rests The Sky Against The Earth. The Dark Still Tarn In The Lap Of The Forest. As A Husband Embraces His Wife's Body In Faithful Tenderness, So The Bare Ground And Trees Are Embraced By The Still, High, Light Of The Morning. I Feel An Ache Of Longing To Share In This Embrace, To Be United And Absorbed. A Longing Like Carnal Desire, But Directed Towards Earth, Water, Sky, And Returned By The Whispers Of The Trees, The Fragrance Of The Soil, The Caresses Of The Wind, The Embrace Of Water And Light. Content? No, No, No - But Refreshed, Rested - While Waiting.

Be Grateful As Your Deeds Become Less And Less Associated With Your Name, As Your Feet Ever More Lightly Tread The Earth.

Only He Deserves Power Who Every Day Justifies It.