This Poetry. I Never Know What I'm

There Is An Unseen Sweetness In The Stomach’s Emptiness. We Are Lutes. When The Sound Box Is Filled, No Music Can Come Forth. When The Brain And The Belly Burn From Fasting, Every Moment A New Song Rises Out Of The Fire. The Mists Clear, And A New Vitality Makes You Spring Up The Steps Before You . . .

Your Real "country" Is Where You're Heading, Not Where You Are.

Someone Who Does Not Run Toward The Allure Of Love Walks A Road Where Nothing Lives. But This Dove Here Senses The Love Hawk Floating Above, And Waits, And Will Not Be Driven Or Scared To Safety.

I Merged So Completely With Love, And Was So Fused, That I Became Love And Love Became Me.

Join The Community Of Saints And Know The Delight Of Your Own Soul. Enter The Ruins Of Your Heart And Learn The Meaning Of Humility.