Someone who does not run toward the allure of love walks a road where nothing lives. But this dove here senses the love hawk floating above, and waits, and will not be driven or scared to safety.

Everything about yesterday has gone with yesterday. Today, it is needed to say new things.

Love said to me, there is nothing that is not me. Be silent.

I don’t know why; when I look at you, I see myself

I do not know who lives here in my chest, or why the smile comes. I am not myself, more the bare green knob of a rose that lost every leaf and petal to the morning wind.

Actually, your soul and mine are the same. We appear and disappear with each other.

Hear from the heart wordless mysteries.