Pull The Thorn Of Existence Out Of

In Silence There Is Eloquence.

Come Sit With Me! Let Us Drink The Holy Wine Of Happiness.

Know That A Word Suddenly Shot From The Tongue Is Like An Arrow Shot From The Bow. Son, That Arrow Won't Turn Back On Its Way; You Must Damn The Torrent At Its Source.

Poems Are Rough Notations For The Music We Are.

Not Christian Or Jew Or Muslim, Not Hindu, Buddhist, Sufi Or Zen. Not Any Religion Or Cultural System. I Am Not Of The East, Nor Of The West.... My Place Is Placeless, A Trace Of The Traceless.