The Heart Is Cooking A Pot Of

The Beloved Is With You In The Midst Of Your Seeking! He Holds Your Hand Wherever You Wander.

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

There Is No Worse Sickness For The Soul, O You Who Are Proud, Than This Pretense Of Perfection.

Why Are You Knocking At Every Door ? Go, Knock At The Door Of Your Own Heart.

If Your Thought Is A Rose, You Are A Rose Garden; And If It Is A Thistle, You Are Fuel For The Fire.