Every door is another passage, another boundary we have to go beyond.
This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say. I don't plan it. When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
Come sit with me! Let us drink the holy wine of happiness.
The Past, the Future, O dear, is from you; you should regard both these as one.
Each moment from all sides rushes to us the call to love. We are running to contemplate its vast green field. Do you want to come with us?
Pilgrimage to the place of the wise is to find escape from the flame of separateness.