Be full of sorrow, that you may become hill of joy; weep, that you may break into laughter.

I am your own voice echoing off the walls of God

Free of who I was, free of presence, free of dangerous fear, hope, free of mountainous wanting.

Silence is the language of God, all else is poor translation.

There’s a morning when presence comes over your soul. You sing like a rooster in your earth-colored shape. Your heart hears and, no longer frantic, begins to dance.

Lovers O lovers, lovers it is time to set out from the world. I hear a drum in my soul's ear coming from the depths of the stars. Our camel driver is at work; the caravan is being readied. He asks that we forgive him for the disturbance he has caused us, He asks why we travellers are asleep. Everywhere the murmur of departure; the stars, like candles thrust at us from behind blue veils, and as if to make the invisible plain, a wondrous people have come forth.

Even though you tie a hundred knots, the string remains one.