I Am Filled With You. Skin, Blood,

Pour Out Wine Till I Become A Wanderer From Myself; For In Selfhood And Existence I Have Felt Only Fatigue.

Don’t Knock On Any Random Door Like A Beggar. Reach Your Long Hand Out To Another Door, Beyond Where You Go On The Street, The Street Where Everyone Says, "how Are You?" And No One Says How Aren’t You?

The Lamps Are Different, But The Light Is The Same. One Matter, One Energy, One Light, One Light-mind, Endlessly Emanating All Things.

In The Blackest Of Your Moments, Wait With No Fear.

While Still In The Cage Of Your Being Behold The Spirit Bird Before It Flies Away.