Finding The Right Work Is Like Discovering

When We Relate To Our Bodies As Having Soul, We Attend To Their Beauty, Their Poetry And Their Expressiveness. Our Very Habit Of Treating The Body As A Machine, Whose Muscles Are Like Pulleys And Its Organs Engines, Forces Its Poetry Underground, So That We Experience The Body As An Instrument And See Its Poetics Only In Illness.

It Is Not While Beauty And Youth Are Thine Own And Thy Cheeks Unprofaned By A Tear That The Ferver And Faith Of A Soul Can Be Known To Which Time Will But Make Thee More Dear No The Heart That Has Truly Loved Never Forgets But As Truly Loves On To The Close As The Sunflower Turns On Her God When He Sets The Same Look Which She'd Turned When He Rose.

Come O'er The Sea, Maiden With Me, Mine Through The Sunshine, Storms And Snows; Seasons May Roll, But The True Soul Burns The Same, Where'er It Goes.

Usually, The Main Problem With Life Conundrums Is That We Don't Bring To Them Enough Imagination

Disappointments In Love, Even Betrayals And Losses, Serve The Soul At The Very Moment They Seem In Life To Be Tragedies. The Soul Is Partly In Time And Partly In Eternity. We Might Remember The Part That Resides In Eternity When We Feel Despair Over The Part That Is In Life.