The Voice Of Life In Me Cannot

The Appearance Of Things Changes According To The Emotions; And Thus We See Magic And Beauty In Them, While The Magic And Beauty Are Really In Ourselves.

The Obvious Is That Which Is Never Seen Until Someone Expresses It Simply.

There Are Those Who Give With Joy, And That Joy Is Their Reward. And There Are Those Who Give With Pain, And That Pain Is Their Baptism. And There Are Those Who Give And Know Not Pain In Giving, Nor Do They Seek Joy, Nor Give With Mindfulness Of Virtue; They Give As In Yonder Valley The Myrtle Breathes Its Fragrance Into Space. Through The Hands Of Such As These God Speaks, And From Behind Their Eyes He Smiles Upon The Earth.

But You Who Walk Facing The Sun, What Images Drawn On The Earth Can Hold You? You Who Travel With The Wind, What Weathervane Shall Direct Your Course? What Man's Law Shall Bind You If You Break Your Yoke But Upon No Man's Prison Door? What Laws Shall You Fear If You Dance But Stumble Against No Man's Iron Chains? And Who Is He That Shall Bring You To Judgment If You Tear Off Your Garment Yet Leave It In No Man's Path? People Of Orphalese, You Can Muffle The Drum, And You Can Loosen The Strings Of The Lyre, But Who Shall Command The Skylark Not To Sing?

Your Clothes Conceal Much Of Your Beauty, Yet They Hide Not The Unbeautiful. And Though You Seek In Garments The Freedom Of Privacy, You May Find In Them A Harness And A Chain. Would That You Could Meet The Sun And The Wind With More Of Your Body And Less Of Your Raiment.