Go to the well of deep Love inside each of Us.

I am dying into your mystery, and dying, I am now no other than that mystery. I open to your majesty as an orchard welcomes rain, and twenty times that.

Your mind, this globe of awareness, is a starry universe. When you push off with your foot, a thousand new roads become clear.

Suffering is a gift; in its hidden mercy

Whatever posessions and objects of its desires the lower self may obtain, it hangs on to them, refusing to let them go out of greed for more, or out of fear of poverty and need.

Dance where you can break yourself up to pieces and totally abandon your worldly passions.

This dance is the joy of existence.