Come, See The True Flowers Of This

Every Day Is A Journey, And The Journey Itself Is Home.

Along My Journey / Through This Transitory World, / New Year's Housecleaning.

Sitting Quietly, Doing Nothing, Spring Comes, And The Grass Grows, By Itself.

The Moon Is Brighter Since The Barn Burned.

Come, Butterfly It's Late- We've Miles To Go Together.