I Wonder What The Vintners

The Thoughtful Soul To Solitude Retires.

I Can’t Reveal The Mystery To Either Saint Or Sinner; I Can’t State At Length What I’ve Said Curtly; I Achieve An Altered State That I Can’t Explain; I Have A Secret That I Cannot Share.

In Monasteries, Seminaries, Retreats And Synagogues, They Fear Hell And Seek Paradise. Those Who Know The Mysteries Of God Never Let That Seed Be Planted In Their Souls.

How Sad, A Heart That Does Not Know How To Love, That Does Not Know What It Is To Be Drunk With Love. If You Are Not In Love, How Can You Enjoy The Blinding Light Of The Sun, The Soft Light Of The Moon?

So I Be Written In The Book Of Love. I Do Not Care About That Book Above. Erase My Name, Or Write It As You Will. So I Be Written In The Book Of Love.