Let Your Throat-song Be Clear And Strong

There Is A Field Beyond All Notions Of Right And Wrong. Come, Meet Me There.

What? Are You Still Pretending You Are Separate From The Beloved?

Let Your Teacher Be Love Itself.

For Hundreds Of Thousands Of Years I Have Been Dust-grains Floating And Flying In The Will Of The Air, Often Forgetting Ever Being In That State, But In Sleep I Migrate Back.

The Heart Is Like A Candle, Longing To Be Lit!