In Silence There Is Eloquence.

Would You Become A Pilgrim On The Road Of Love? The First Condition Is That You Make Yourself Humble As Dust And Ashes.

Flow Down And Down In Always Widening Rings Of Being.

I Was A Tiny Bug. Now A Mountain. I Was Left Behind. Now Honored At The Head. You Healed My Wounded Hunger And Anger, And Made Me A Poet Who Sings About Joy.

Love’s Secret Is Always Lifting Its Head Out From Under The Covers, “here I Am!”

I Am Amazed At The Seeker Of Purity When Time For Polishing Comes Complaints Of Harsh Treatment Love Is A Lawsuit Without Evidence, You Will Not Win My Son, When One Beats The Rug The Beating Is Not Intended Against The Rug But Against The Dust Inside The Rug My Son, That Harsh Treatment Is Not Intended Against You But Against The Ill Qualities Inside You