When old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart; and where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.

You have given me Your love, filling the world with Your gifts.

The night kissed the fading day With a whisper: "I am death, your mother, From me you will get new birth."

Let this be my last word, that I trust in thy love.

Ah, thou hast made my heart captive in the endless meshes of thy music, my master!

Poems On Time The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough. Time is a wealth of change, but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth. Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf.

that which is eternal within the moment only becomes shallow if spread out in time.