Lamps Are Different, But Light Is The

Love Comes With A Knife, Not Some Shy Question, And Not With Fears For Its Reputation!

Neither This Body Am I, Nor Soul, Nor These Fleeting Images Passing By, Nor Concepts And Thoughts, Mental Images, Nor Yet Sentiments And The Psyche's Labyrinth. Who Then Am I? A Consciousness Without Origin, Not Born In Time, Nor Begotten Here Below. I Am That Which Was, Is And Ever Shall Be, A Jewel In The Crown Of The Divine Self, A Star In The Firmament Of The Luminous One.

The Result Of My Life Is No More Than Three Words: I Was Raw, I Became Cooked, I Was Burnt.

The Waterwheel Accepts Water And Turns And Gives It Away, Weeping.

In His Mind She Lay At His Lap With His Fingers Gliding Thru Her Straight Beautiful Hair. He Smiles And Says" Your Beauty Lights Up Everything Around You.