Make My Heart, O Heart Of The

Raise Your Words, Not Voice. It Is Rain That Grows Flowers, Not Thunder.

No One Looks Back And Regrets Leaving This World. What's Regretted Is How Real We Thought It Was.

Half-heartedness Doesn't Reach Into Majesty. You Set Out To Find God, But Then You Keep Stopping For Long Periods At Meanspirited Roadhouses.

In The Middle Of My Heart, A Star Appeared, And The Seven Heavens Were Lost In Its Brilliance.

Even Though In The World You Are The Most Learned Scholar Of The Time, Behold The Vanishing Of This World And This Time!