I Said, O Love, Tell

Loaves Of Bread Remind Us Of Sunlight, But When We Are Inside That Orb,we Lose Interest In Building Ovens,in Millwork And The Preparation Of Fields Before The Planting.

Just As The Heart Becomes Carefree In A Place Of Green, Growing Plants, Goodwill And Kindness Are Born When Our Souls Enter Happiness.

Sell Your Cleverness And Buy Bewilderment.

When It's Cold And Raining,you Are More Beautiful.and The Snow Brings Meeven Closer To Your Lipsthe Inner Secret, That Which Was Never Born,you Are That Freshness, And I Am With You Now.i Can't Explain The Goings,or The Comings. You Enter Suddenly,and I Am Nowhere Again.inside The Majesty

When The Rose Is Gone And The Garden Faded You Will No Longer Hear The Nightingale's Song. The Beloved Is All; The Lover Just A Veil. The Beloved Is Living; The Lover A Dead Thing. If Love Withholds Its Strengthening Care, The Lover Is Left Like A Bird Without Care, The Lover Is Left Like A Bird Without Wings. How Will I Be Awake And Aware If The Light Of The Beloved Is Absent? Love Wills That This Word Be Brought Forth.