Last Night I Learned How To Be

Lovers Think They Are Looking For Each Other, But There Is Only One Search: Wandering This World Is Wandering That, Both Inside One Transparent Sky. In Here There Is No Dogma And No Heresy.

Lightning, Your Presence From Ground To Sky, No One Knows What Becomes Of Me, When You Take Me So Quickly.

You Think The Shadow Is The Substance.

When Inward Tenderness Finds The Secret Hurt, Pain Itself Will Crack The Rock And Ah! Let The Soul Emerge.

There Is No Worse Sickness For The Soul, O You Who Are Proud, Than This Pretense Of Perfection.