Let The Beauty We Love Do What

You Had Better Run From Me. My Words Are Fire.

Brother, Stand The Pain. Escape The Poison Of Your Impulses. The Sky Will Bow To Your Beauty, If You Do. Learn To Light The Candle. Rise With The Sun. Turn Away From The Cave Of Your Sleeping. That Way A Thorn Expands To A Rose.

I Feel Like The Earth, Astonished At Fragrance Borne In The Air, Made Pregnant With Mystery From A Drop Of Rain.

We Alchemists Look For Talent That Can Heat Up And Change. Lukewarm Won't Do. Halfhearted Holding Back, Well-enough Getting By? Not Here.

Enough Of These Phrases, Conceit And Metaphors, I Want Burning, Burning, Burning.