Once We Were Particles Of Light, Now

How Will You Know The Difficulties Of Being Human, If You Are Always Flying Off To Blue Perfection? Where Will You Plant Your Grief Seeds? Workers Need Ground To Scrape And Hoe, Not The Sky Of Unspecified Desire.

Knowest Thou Not The Beauty Of Thine Own Face? Quit This Temper That Leads Thee To War With Thyself.

If The Beautiful One Is Not Inside You, Then What Is That Light Hidden Under Your Cloak?

Words Are A Pretext. It Is The Inner Bond That Draws One Person To Another, Not Words.

Whatever Posessions And Objects Of Its Desires The Lower Self May Obtain, It Hangs On To Them, Refusing To Let Them Go Out Of Greed For More, Or Out Of Fear Of Poverty And Need.