Pilgrimage To The Place Of The Wise

I Cannot Stop Asking. If I Could Taste One Sip Of An Answer, I Could Break Out Of This Prison For Drunks.

There's No One With Intelligence In This Town Except That Man Over There Playing With The Children, The One Riding The Stick Horse. He Has Keen, Fiery Insight And Vast Dignity Like The Night Sky, But He Conceals It In The Madness Of Child's Play.

Listen To Presences Inside Poems, Let Them Take You Where They Will. Follow Those Private Hints, And Never Leave The Premises.

Goodbyes Are Only For Those Who Love With Their Eyes. Because For Those Who Love With Heart And Soul There Is No Such Thing As Separation.

I've Said Before That Every Craftsman Searches For What's Not There To Practice His Craft.