My soul is my guide, for my soul is of that abode. I will not speak of the earthly. I am of the unknown

The ground's generosity takes in our compost and grows beauty! Try to be more like the ground.

I want to see you. Know your voice. Recognize you when you first come 'round the corner. Sense your scent when I come into a room you've just left. Know the lift of your heel, the glide of your foot. Become familiar with the way you purse your lips then let them part, just the slightest bit, when I lean in to your space and kiss you. I want to know the joy of how you whisper "more

There is an unseen sweetness in the stomach’s emptiness. We are lutes. When the sound box is filled, no music can come forth. When the brain and the belly burn from fasting, every moment a new song rises out of the fire. The mists clear, and a new vitality makes you spring up the steps before you . . .

In their seeking, wisdom and madness are one and the same. On the path of love, friend and stranger are one and the same.

I am iron resisting the most enormous magnet there is.

In real existence there is only unity.