Roar, Lion Of The Heart, And Tear

Every Soul Becomes Gold When Touched By The Beloved.

Poems Reach Up Like Spindrift And The Edge Of Driftwood Along The Beach, Wanting! They Derive From A Slow And Powerful Root That We Can’t See. Stop The Words Now. Open The Window In The Center Of Your Chest, And Let The Spirits Fly In And Out.

The Middle Path Is The Way To Wisdom

God Does Not Look At Your Outer Forms, But At The Love Within Your Love.

Awake Asleep Ought To Be With Us - So He May See Dreams In Wakefulness.