You Talk When You Cease To Be

And If You Would Know God, Be Not Therefore A Solver Of Riddles. Rather Look About You And You Shall See Him Playing With Your Children.

For The Sight Of The Angry Weather Saddens My Soul And The Sight Of The Town, Sitting Like A Bereaved Mother Beneath Layers Of Ice, Oppresses My Heart.

Like The Seeds Dreaming Beneath The Snow Your Heart Dreams Of Spring.

Where Is The Justice Of Political Power If It Executes The Murderer And Jails The Plunderer, And Then Itself Marches Upon Neighboring Lands, Killing Thousands And Pillaging The Very Hills?

Of Time You Would Make A Stream Upon Whose Bank You Would Sit And Watch Its Flowing. Yet The Timeless In You Is Aware Of Life's Timelessness, And Knows That 'yesterday Is But Today's Memory And Tomorrow Is Today's Dream.