Pilgrimage To The Place Of The Wise

At Night, I Open The Window And Ask The Moon To Come And Press Its Face Against Mine. Breathe Into Me. Close The Language-door And Open The Love-window. The Moon Won't Use The Door, Only The Window.

There Is A Voice That Doesn’t Use Words. Listen.

Live At The Empty Heart Of Paradox. I'll Dance With You There, Cheek To Cheek.

That Hurt We Embrace Becomes Joy. Call It To Your Arms Where It Can Change.

The Pure Heart Is A Spotless Mirror In Which Images Of Infinite Beauty Are Reflected.