When Soul Rises Into Lips You Feel

All My Feelings Have The Color You Desire To Paint.

Your Hand Opens And Closes, Opens And Closes. If It Were Always A Fist Or Always Stretched Open, You Would Be Paralysed. Your Deepest Presence Is In Every Small Contracting And Expanding, The Two As Beautifully Balanced And Coordinated As Birds' Wings.

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.

The Sun Comes Back Every Day With New And Powerful Secrets.

The Soul Is Here For Its Own Joy.