This Is Love: To Fly Toward A

Whatever Purifies You Is The Correct Road.

A Craftsman Pulled A Reed From The Reedbed, Cut Holes In It, And Called It A Human Being. Since Then, It's Been Wailing A Tender Agony Of Parting, Never Mentioning The Skill That Gave It Life As A Flute

Knowledge That Is Acquired Is Not Like This. Those Who Have It Worry If Audiences Like It Or Not. It's A Bait For Popularity. Disputational Knowing Wants Customers. It Has No Soul... The Only Real Customer Is God. Chew Quietly Your Sweet Sugarcane God-love, And Stay Playfully Childish.

There Is An Unseen Sweetness In The Stomach’s Emptiness. We Are Lutes. When The Sound Box Is Filled, No Music Can Come Forth. When The Brain And The Belly Burn From Fasting, Every Moment A New Song Rises Out Of The Fire. The Mists Clear, And A New Vitality Makes You Spring Up The Steps Before You . . .

A Divine Dance Appears In The Soul And The Body At The Time Of Peace And Union.anyone Can Learn The Dance, Just Listen To The Music.