To love is human. To feel pain is human. Yet to still love despite the pain is pure angel.

All religions, all this singing, one song. The differences are just illusion and vanity. The sun’s light looks a little different on this wall than it does on that wall, and a lot different on this other one, but it’s still one light.

Tree limbs rise and fall like the ecstatic arms of those who have submitted to the mystical life. Leaf sounds talk together like poets making fresh metaphors.

The day is conscious of itself.

From the Distance You only See My Light; Come closer and You will Know that I Am You.

This is not a day for asking questions, not a day on any calendar. This day is conscious of itself. This day is a lover, bread, and gentleness, more manifest than saying can say.

I said to the night, "If you are in love with the moon, it is because you never stay for long." The night turned to me and said, "It is not my fault. I never see the Sun, how can I know that love is endless?