God Turns You From One Feeling To

Sing To Me In The Silence Of Your Heart And I Will Rise Up To Hear Your Triumphant Song.

As You Start To Walk On The Way, The Way Appears.

All Language Is A Longing For Home.

Do You Think I Know What I'm Doing? That For One Breath Or Half-breath I Belong To Myself? As Much As A Pen Knows What It's Writing, Or The Ball Can Guess Where It's Going Next.

And You? When Will You Begin That Long Journey Into Yourself?