Our Pain Carves Out A

The Soul Unfolds Itself, Like A Lotus Of Countless Petals.

Our Pain Carves Out A Larger Space For Love To Fill.

Your Life Is An Island Separated From All Other Islands And Continents. Regardless Of How Many Boats You Send To Other Shores Or How Many Ships Arrive Upon Your Shores, You Yourself Are An Island Separated By Its Own Pains, Secluded In Its Happiness

And If There Come The Singers, And The Dancers And The Flute Players - Buy Of Their Gifts Also. For They Too Are Gatherers Of Fruit And Frankincense, And That Which They Bring, Though Fashioned Of Dreams, Is Raiment And Fod For Your Soul.

Nature Reaches Out To Us With Welcoming Arms, And Bids Us Enjoy Her Beauty; But We Dread Her Silence And Rush Into The Crowded Cities, There To Huddle Like Sheep Fleeing From A Ferocious Wolf.