You May Learn To Imitate A Birdcall,

What Hurts The Soul? To Live Without Tasting The Water Of Its Own Essence.

Love Is The Soul's Light, The Taste Of Morning, No Me, No We, No Claim Of Being.

You Moan, "she Left Me." "he Left Me," Twenty More Will Come.

If You Yearn For Holy Felicity, Shed Your Arrogance And Become A Seeker Of Hearts.

If You Are A Man Of Learning, Read Something Classic, A History Of The Human Struggle And Don't Settle For Mediocre Verse.