Bathe In The Splendor Of Your Own

You Think The Shadow Is The Substance.

What Strikes The Oyster Shell Doesn't Damage The Pearl.

Your Hand Opens And Closes, Opens And Closes. If It Were Always A Fist Or Always Stretched Open, You Would Be Paralysed. Your Deepest Presence Is In Every Small Contracting And Expanding, The Two As Beautifully Balanced And Coordinated As Birds' Wings.

Whatever Purifies You Is The Right Path, I Will Not Try To Define It.

Love Is Such A Vast Sea, It Has Neither Edges Nor Ends Nor Corners.