Caminante, No Hay Camino, Se

The Only Living Language Is The Language In Which We Think And Have Our Being.

Has My Heart Gone To Sleep? Have The Beehives Of My Dreams Stopped Working, The Waterwheel Of The Mind Run Dry, Scoops Turning Empty, Only Shadow Inside? No, My Heart Is Not Asleep. It Is Awake, Wide Awake. Not Asleep, Not Dreaming— Its Eyes Are Opened Wide Watching Distant Signals, Listening On The Rim Of Vast Silence

I. Don't Trace Out Your Profile-- Forget Your Side View-- All That Is Outer Stuff. Ii. Look For Your Other Half Who Walks Always Next To You And Tends To Be Who You Aren't.

The Deepest Words Of The Wise Man Teach Us The Same As The Whistle Of The Wind When It Blows Or The Sound Of The Water When It Is Flowing.

Beware Of The Community In Which Blasphemy Does Not Exist: Underneath, Atheism Runs Rampant.