If I Can Only Recount The Story

In Winter The Bare Boughs That Seem To Sleep Work Covertly, Preparing For Their Spring.

God's Purpose For Man Is To Acquire A Seeing Eye And An Understanding Heart.

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.

Love Is The House Of God And You Are Living In That House.

He Who Tastes Not, Knows Not.