Free Of Who I Was, Free Of

Its Good To Leave Each Day Behind, Like Flowing Water, Free Of Sadness. Yesterday Is Gone And Its Tale Told. Today New Seeds Are Growing.

Whatever Posessions And Objects Of Its Desires The Lower Self May Obtain, It Hangs On To Them, Refusing To Let Them Go Out Of Greed For More, Or Out Of Fear Of Poverty And Need.

You Are A Lover Of Your Own Experience ... Not Of Me ... You Turn To Me To Feel Ur Own Emotion

I Am Not From East Or West Not Up From The Ground Or Out Of The Ocean My Place Is Placeless A Trace Of The Traceless I Belong To The Beloved

I See My Beauty In You.