You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you.

We can't help being thirsty, moving toward the voice of water. Milk drinkers draw close to the mother. Muslims, Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, shamans, everyone hears the intelligent sound and moves with thirst to meet it.

I am not from east or west not up from the ground or out of the ocean my place is placeless a trace of the traceless I belong to the beloved

At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language-door and open the love-window. The moon won't use the door, only the window.

Is your face a beautiful blossom or a sweet torture? I have no complaints but my heart is tempted to let you hear of its sorrows.

When it's cold and raining,you are more beautiful.And the snow brings meeven closer to your lipsThe inner secret, that which was never born,you are that freshness, and I am with you now.I can't explain the goings,or the comings. You enter suddenly,and I am nowhere again.Inside the majesty

There is a field beyond all notions of right and wrong. Come, meet me there.