The spiritual path wrecks the body And afterwards restores it to health. It destroys the house to unearth the treasure, And with that treasure builds it better than before.

Pour out wine till I become a wanderer from myself; for in selfhood and existence I have felt only fatigue.

Love asks us to enjoy our life For nothing good can come of death. Who is alive? I ask. Those who are born of love. Seek us in love itself, Seek love in us ourselves. Sometimes I venerate love, Sometimes it venerates me.

If thou wilt be observant and vigilant, thou wilt see at every moment the response to thy action. Be observant if thou wouldst have a pure heart, for something is born to thee in consequence of every action.

One of the marvels of the world: The sight of a soul sitting in prison with the key in its hand.

Poems are rough notations for the music we are.

Try something different. Surrender.