O Tongue You Are An Endless Treasure.

I Am Not From East Or West Not Up From The Ground Or Out Of The Ocean My Place Is Placeless A Trace Of The Traceless I Belong To The Beloved

In The House Of Lovers, The Music Never Stops, The Walls Are Made Of Songs & The Floor Dances

Finding Faults Is For Those With Tired Minds.

Botha Swimmer And A Drowned Man Are In The Water; The Latter Is Borne By The Water And Controlled By It, While The Swimmer Is Borne Along By His Own Power And Of His Own Volition. Every Movement Made By The Drowned Man - Indeed, Every Act And Word That Issue From Him - Comes From The Water, Not From Him... The Saints Are Like This. They Have Died Before Death.

Today, Like Every Other Day, We Wake Up Empty And Frightened. Don't Open The Door To The Study And Begin Reading. Take Down The Dulcimer. Let The Beauty We Love Be What We Do. There Are Hundreds Of Ways To Kneel And Kiss The Ground.