A Pen Went Scribbling Along. When It

Forget Every Touch Or Sound That Did Not Teach You How To Dance

He Has Afflicted You From Every Direction In Order To Pull You Back To The Directionless.

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.

The Earth Turns To Gold, In The Hands Of The Wise.

Don't Put Blankets Over The Drum! Open Completely. Let Your Spirit Ear Listen To The Green Dome's Passionate Murmur.