That Deed Which In Our Guilt We

You Would Know The Secret Of Death. But How Shall You Find It Unless You Seek It In The Heath Of Life? The Owl Whose Night-bound Eyes Are Blind Unto The Day Cannot Unveil The Mystery Of Light. If You Would Indeed Behold The Spirit Of Death, Open Your Heart Wide Unto The Body Of Life. For Life And Death Are One, Even As The River And Sea Are One. For What Is It To Die But To Stand Naked In The Wind And To Melt Into The Sun?

How Often Have You Sailed In My Dreams. And Now You Come In My Awakening, Which Is My Deeper Dream.

And Let Your Best Be For Your Friend. If He Must Know The Ebb Of Your Tide, Let Him Know Its Flood Also. For What Is Your Friend That Your Should Seek With Him Hours To Kill? Seek With Him Always Hours To Live. For It Is His To Fill Your Need, But Not Your Emptiness. And In The Sweetness Of Friendship, Let There Be Laughter, And The Sharing Of Pleasures. For In The Dew Of Little Things The Heart Finds Its Morning And Is Refreshed.

And Alone And Without His Nest Shall The Eagle Fly Across The Sun.

Thus With My Lips Have I Denounced You, While My Heart, Bleeding Within Me, Called You Tender Names. It Was Love Lashed By Its Own Self That Spoke. It Was Pride Half Slain That Fluttered In The Dust. It Was My Hunger For Your Love That Raged From The Housetop, While My Own Love, Kneeling In Silence, Prayed Your Forgiveness.