Limp Along Until Your Legs Are Spent,

Close The Language-door, And Open The Love-window

Lovers O Lovers, Lovers It Is Time To Set Out From The World. I Hear A Drum In My Soul's Ear Coming From The Depths Of The Stars. Our Camel Driver Is At Work; The Caravan Is Being Readied. He Asks That We Forgive Him For The Disturbance He Has Caused Us, He Asks Why We Travellers Are Asleep. Everywhere The Murmur Of Departure; The Stars, Like Candles Thrust At Us From Behind Blue Veils, And As If To Make The Invisible Plain, A Wondrous People Have Come Forth.

Don’t Knock On Any Random Door Like A Beggar. Reach Your Long Hand Out To Another Door, Beyond Where You Go On The Street, The Street Where Everyone Says, "how Are You?" And No One Says How Aren’t You?

Darkness Is Your Candle. Your Boundaries Are Your Quest.

We May Know Who We Are Or We May Not. We May Be Muslims, Jews Or Christians But Until Our Hearts Become The Mould For Every Heart We Will See Only Our Differences.