You May Learn To Imitate A Birdcall,

I Have No Name For What Circles So Perfectly.

What In Your Life Is Calling You, When All The Noise Is Silenced, The Meetings Adjourned... The Lists Laid Aside, And The Wild Iris Blooms By Itself In The Dark Forest... What Still Pulls On Your Soul?

For Hundreds Of Thousands Of Years I Have Been Dust-grains Floating And Flying In The Will Of The Air, Often Forgetting Ever Being In That State, But In Sleep I Migrate Back.

Inside The Great Mystery That Is, We Don't Really Own Anything. What Is This Competition We Feel Then, Before We Go, One At A Time, Through The Same Gate?

In Our Hearts There Burns A Fire... That Burns All Veils To Their Root And Foundation When Those Veils Have Been Burned Away Then The Heart Will Understand Completely. Ancient Love Will Unfold Ever-fresh Forms In The Heart Of The Spirit, In The Core Of The Heart.