In The Garden I See Only Your

If Your Guidance Is Your Ego, Don't Rely On Luck For Help. You Sleep During The Day And The Nights Are Short. By The Time You Wake Up Your Life May Be Over.

This Torture Why Should We Tell You Our Love Stories When You Spill Them Together Like Blood In The Dirt? Love Is A Pearl Lost On The Ocean Floor, Or A Fire We Can’t See, But How Does Saying That Push Us Through The Top Of The Head Into The Light Above The Head? Love Is Not An Iron Pot, So This Boiling Energy Won’t Help. Soul, Heart, Self. Beyond And Within Those Is One Saying, How Long Before I’m Free Of This Torture!

Through Your Love Existence And Nonexistence Merge. All Opposites Unite. All That Is Profane Becomes Sacred Again.

You're Water. We're The Millstone. You're Wind. We're Dust Blown Up Into Shapes. You're Spirit. We're The Opening And Closing Of Our Hands. You're The Clarity. We're The Language That Tries To Say It. You're Joy. We're All The Different Kinds Of Laughing.

Free Of Who I Was, Free Of Presence, Free Of Dangerous Fear, Hope, Free Of Mountainous Wanting.