You Are The Soul Of The Soul

I Died From A Mineral And Plant Became, Died From The Plant, Took A Sentient Frame; Died From The Beast, Donned A Human Dress - When By My Dying Did I Ever Grow Less.

I Want A Heart Which Is Split, Part By Part, Because Of The Pain Of Separation From God, So That I Might Explain My Longing And Complaint To It.

The Same Wind That Uproots Trees Makes The Grass Shine. The Lordly Wind Loves The Weakness And The Lowness Of Grasses. Never Brag Of Being Strong. The Axe Doesn't Worry How Thick The Branches Are. It Cuts Them To Pieces. But Not The Leaves. It Leaves The Leaves Alone.

Do You Pay Regular Visits To Yourself? Don't Argue Or Answer Rationally. Let Us Die, And Dying, Reply.

I Love Myself...i Love You. I Love You...i Love Myself.