If these poems repeat themselves, then so does Spring.

He is like a man using a candle to look for the sun

Stop looking for something out there and begin seeing within.

Someone who goes with a half a loaf of bread to a small place that fits like a nest around him, someone who wants no more, who is not himself longed for by anyone else. He is a letter to everyone. You open it. It says, Live.

We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee; we are as the mountain and the echo in us is from thee.

You lack a foot to travel? Then journey into yourself - that leads to transformation of dust into pure gold.

The fault is in the one who blames. Spirit sees nothing to criticize.