Travelers, It Is Late. Life's Sun Is

In The Blackest Of Your Moments, Wait With No Fear.

Finding Faults Is For Those With Tired Minds.

...blessed Is Anyone Who Knows Who He Or She Really Is And Builds A Place To Live There.

No One Can Tell If I’m Laughing Or Weeping. I Wonder Myself.

Your Hand Opens And Closes, Opens And Closes. If It Were Always A Fist Or Always Stretched Open, You Would Be Paralysed. Your Deepest Presence Is In Every Small Contracting And Expanding, The Two As Beautifully Balanced And Coordinated As Birds' Wings.