What is a tiny insignificant seed that, when Spring arrives, It should not be annihilated for a tree to arrive.

You are the fountain of the sun. I'm the shadow of a willow. You fall upon my forehead. I melt. You slip into my heart. It spills open. You surround me with such sweetness. I make it my home.

When I run after what I think I want, my days are a furnace of stress and anxiety; if I sit in my own place of patience, what I need flows to me, and without pain. From this I understand that what I want also wants me, is looking for me and attracting me. There is a great secret here for anyone who can grasp it.

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

Conventional opinion is the ruin of our souls.

In Silence there is eloquence.

Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.