Now Even The Heavens Are Thankful That

Let The Beauty We Love Do What We Do.

Even Though You Tie A Hundred Knots, The String Remains One.

To Praise The Sun Is To Praise Your Own Eyes.

Poems Are Rough Notations For The Music We Are.

You Are The Fountain Of The Sun. I'm The Shadow Of A Willow. You Fall Upon My Forehead. I Melt. You Slip Into My Heart. It Spills Open. You Surround Me With Such Sweetness. I Make It My Home.