Everything That Is Made Beautiful And Fair

I Was A Tiny Bug. Now A Mountain. I Was Left Behind. Now Honored At The Head. You Healed My Wounded Hunger And Anger, And Made Me A Poet Who Sings About Joy.

Stars Burn Clear All Night Till Dawn. Do That Yourself, And A Spring Will Rise In The Dark With Water Your Deepest Thirst Is For.

When You Have Indulged A Lust, Your Wing Drops Off; You Become Lame, Abandoned By A Fantasy. …people Fancy They Are Enjoying Themselves, But They Are Really Tearing Out Their Wings For The Sake Of An Illusion.

When You Eventually See Through The Veils To How Things Really Are, You Will Keep Saying Again And Again, This Is Certainly Not Like We Thought It Was.

This Is Love: To Fly Toward A Secret Sky