There's No Cure, Except The Retreat Into

What I Most Want Is To Spring Out Of This Personality, Then To Sit Apart From That Leaping. I've Lived Too Long Where I Can Be Reached.

Body Of Earth, Don't Talk Of Earth Tell The Story Of Pure Mirrors The Creator Has Given You This Splendor-- Why Talk Of Anything Else?

The Men Of God Are Like Fishes In The Ocean; They Pop Up Into View On The Surface Here And There And Everywhere, As They Please.

Inside Any Deep Asking Is The Answering.

Iron Was Black And Sheenless, But Cleansing And Polishing Washed Away Its Blackness.