Only From The Heart Can You Touch

Give Yourself Completely To The One You Call God. If You Are Not Doing It You Are Wasting Your Time Here.

Explanation By The Tongue Makes Most Things Clear, But Love Unexplained Is Clearer.

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 . . .

If You Wish Mercy, Show Mercy To The Weak.

God Picks Up The Reed-flute World And Blows. Each Note Is A Need Coming Through One Of Us, A Passion, A Longing Pain. Remember The Lips Where The Wind-breath Originated, And Let Your Note Be Clear. Don't Try To End It. Be Your Note.