I've said before that every craftsman searches for what's not there to practice his craft.
Your calling my name is My reply. Your longing for Me is My message to you.
He who tastes not, knows not.
We gather at night to celebrate being human. Sometimes we call out low to the tambourine. Fish drink the sea, but the sea does not get smaller! We eat the clouds and evening light. We are slaves tasting the royal wine.
Youโre a song, a wished-for song.
Our death is our wedding with eternity.