Tree limbs rise and fall like the ecstatic arms of those who have submitted to the mystical life. Leaf sounds talk together like poets making fresh metaphors.

There is some kiss we want with the whole of our lives.

There are thousands of wines that can take over our minds. Don't think all ecstasies are the same!

Reason is powerless in the expression of Love. Love alone is capable of revealing the truth of Love and being a Lover. The way of our prophets is the way of Truth. If you want to live, die in Love; die in Love if you want to remain alive.

Iron was black and sheenless, but cleansing and polishing washed away its blackness.

Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come, come.

This is how it always is when I finish a poem. A great silence overcomes me and I wonder why I ever thought to use language.