Whether One Moves Slowly Or With Speed,

Everyone Is Overridden By Thoughts; That's Why They Have So Much Heartache And Sorrow.

Oh, Bird Of My Soul, Fly Away Now, For I Possess A Hundred Fortified Towers.

Your Hand Opens And Closes And Opens And Closes. If It Were Always A Fist Or Always Stretched Open, You Would Be Paralyzed.

You Are Not Your Body; You Are The Eye. When You See The Spirit, You Are Free Of The Body. A Human Being Is An Eye – The Rest Is Just Flesh And Bones. Whatever Your Eye Sees, You Are That.

There Is A Community Of The Spirit . . . Open Your Hands If You Want To Be Held . . . Move Outside The Tangle Of Fear-thinking . . . Flow Down And Down In Always Widening Rings Of Being.