And I Walked, I Walked Through The

Being, Not Doing, Is My First Joy.

The Self Says, I Am; The Heart Says, I Am Less; The Spirit Says, You Are Nothing.

All Finite Things Reveal Infinitude: The Mountain With Its Singular Bright Shade Like The Blue Shine On Freshly Frozen Snow, The After-light Upon Ice-burdened Pines; Odor Of Basswood Upon A Mountain Slope, A Scene Beloved Of Bees; Silence Of Water Above A Sunken Tree: The Pure Serene Of Memory Of One Man,- A Ripple Widening From A Single Stone Winding Around The Waters Of The World.

The Darkness Has It's Own Light.

Nothing Would Give Up Life: Even The Dirt Keeps Breathing A Small Breath.