We sit and talk quietly, with long lapses of silence, and I am aware of the stream that has no language, coursing beneath the quiet heaven of your eyes, which has no speech.

You have the chicken, the hen, and the rooster. The chicken goes with the hen So who is having sex with the rooster?

Most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see them

O Marvelous! What new configuration will come next? I am bewildered with multiplicity.

O frost bitten blossoms, That are unfolding your wings From out the envious black branches. Bloom quickly and make much of the sunshine. The twigs conspire against you! Hear hem! They hold you from behind.

Dissonance / (if you are interested) / leads to discovery.

When I am alone I am happy.