The Ground Submits To The Sky And

This Is A Gathering Of Lovers. In This Gathering There Is No High, No Low, No Smart, No Ignorant, No Special Assembly, No Grand Discourse, No Proper Schooling Required. There Is No Master, No Disciple. This Gathering Is More Like A Drunken Party, Full Of Tricksters, Fools, Mad Men And Mad Women. This Is A Gathering Of Lovers.

Reason Is Powerless In The Expression Of Love.

With Every Breath, I Plant The Seeds Of Devotion, I Am A Farmer Of The Heart.

If You Wish To Shine Like Day, Burn Up The Night Of Self-existence. Dissolve In The Being Who Is Everything.

O Tongue You Are An Endless Treasure. O Tongue, You Are Also An Endless Disease.