In The Sea Of Love,

Physical Existence Is So Cramped.we Grow Old And Bent Over Like Embryos.nine Months Passes;it Is Time To Be Born. The Lamb Wants To Graze Green Daylight. There Are Ways Of Being Born Twice,of Coming To Where You Fly,not Individually Like Birds, But As The Sun Moves With His Bride,sincerity.

I Grow Silent. Dear Soul, You Speak.

The Interpretation That Makes You Ardent And Hopeful And Active And Reverent Is The True One.

Happy, Not From Anything That Happens. Warm, Not From Fire Or A Hot Bath. Light, I Register Zero On A Scale.

All Religions, All This Singing, One Song. The Differences Are Just Illusion And Vanity. The Sun’s Light Looks A Little Different On This Wall Than It Does On That Wall, And A Lot Different On This Other One, But It’s Still One Light.