Doffing The Ego's Safe Glory, He Finds

The Light Died In The Low Clouds. Falling Snow Drank In The Dusk. Shrouded In Silence, The Branches Wrapped Me In Their Peace. When The Boundaries Were Erased, Once Again The Wonder: That *i* Exist.

You Cannot Play With The Animal In You Without Becoming Wholly Animal, Play With Falsehood Without Forfeiting Your Right To Truth, Play With Cruelty Without Losing Your Sensitivity Of Mind. He Who Wants To Keep His Garden Tidy Does Not Reserve A Plot For Weeds

You Take The Pen, And The Lines Dance. You Take The Flute And The Notes Shimmer. You Take The Brush, And The Colors Sing. So All Things Have Meaning And Beauty In That Space Beyond Time Where You Are. How, Then, Can I Hold Back Anything From You?

Forgiveness Is The Answer To The Child's Dream Of A Miracle By Which What Is Broken Is Made Whole Again, What Is Soiled Is Made Clean Again.

He Is One Of Those Who Has Had The Wilderness For A Pillow, And Called A Star His Brother. Alone. But Loneliness Can Be A Communion.