Be A Lamp, Or A Lifeboat, Or

Your Way Begins At The Other Side. Become The Sky.

Daylight, Full Of Small Dancing Particles. Can You See Them When I Whisper In Your Ear?

Nothing Can Nourish The Soul But Light. Rid Yourself Of Material Needs And Be Set Free.

The Meaning Of Poetry Has No Sureness Of Direction; Is Like The Sling, It Is Not Under Control.

Humankind Is Being Led Along An Evolving Course, Through This Migration Of Intelligences, And Though We Seem To Be Sleeping, There Is An Inner Wakefulness That Directs The Dream, And That Will Eventually Startle Us Back To The Truth.