If It Were Not For Guests All

You Are Persecuted And Despised. It Were Better That A Person Should Be The Oppressed Than That He Should Be The Oppressor; And Fitter That He Should Be A Victim To The Frailty Of Human Instincts Than That He Should Be Powerful And Crush The Flowers Of Life And Disfigure The Beauties Of Feeling With His Desire.

The Obvious Is That Which Is Never Seen Until Someone Expresses It Simply.

Thus With My Lips Have I Denounced You, While My Heart, Bleeding Within Me, Called You Tender Names.

Solitude Is A Silent Storm That Breaks Down All Our Dead Branches; Yet It Sends Our Living Roots Deeper Into The Living Heart Of The Living Earth.

And Then To Sleep With A Prayer For The Beloved In Your Heart And A Song Of Praise Upon Your Lips.