Submit To Love Without Thinking, As The

Pull The Thorn Of Existence Out Of The Heart! Fast! For When You Do, You Will See Thousands Of Rose Gardens In Yourself.

Go To The Well Of Deep Love Inside Each Of Us.

Whether One Moves Slowly Or With Speed, The One Who Is A Seeker Will Be A Finder.

When The Rose Is Gone And The Garden Faded You Will No Longer Hear The Nightingale's Song. The Beloved Is All; The Lover Just A Veil. The Beloved Is Living; The Lover A Dead Thing. If Love Withholds Its Strengthening Care, The Lover Is Left Like A Bird Without Care, The Lover Is Left Like A Bird Without Wings. How Will I Be Awake And Aware If The Light Of The Beloved Is Absent? Love Wills That This Word Be Brought Forth.

You’re A Song, A Wished-for Song.