We Bury Our Seeds And Wait, Winter

Since I Was Cut From The Reedbed I Have Made This Crying Sound. Anyone Separated From Someone He Loves Understands What I Say. Anyone Pulled From A Source Longs To Go Back.

Love Is Reckless; Not Reason. Reason Seeks A Profit. Loves Comes On Strong, Consuming Herself Unabashed. Yet In The Midst Of Suffering Love Proceeds Like A Millstone, Hard Surfaced And Straight Forward. Having Died To Self Interest, She Risks Everything And Asks For Nothing. Love Gambles Away Every Gift God Bestows. Without Cause God Gave Us Being; Without Cause Give It Back Again. Gambling Yourself Away Is Beyond Any Religion. Religion Seeks Grace And Favor, But Those Who Gamble These Away Are God's Favorites, For They Neither Put God To The Test Nor Knock At The Door Of Gain And Loss.

Don't Make The Body Do What The Spirit Does Best, And Don't Put A Big Load On The Spirit That The Body Could Easily Carry.

Longing Is The Core Of Mystery. Longing Itself Brings The Cure. The Only Rule Is, Suffer The Pain. Your Desires Must Be Disciplined And What You Want To Happen In Time, Sacrificed.

Be Quiet Now And Wait. It May Be That The Ocean One, The One We Desire So To Move Into And Become, Desires Us Out Here On Land A Little Longer, Going Our Sundry Roads To The Shore.