End of story

With this Chinese litters i'd like to start the end
珍惜眼前人！
深夜，寺里一人一佛，佛坐人站。 
人：圣明的佛，我是一个已婚之人，我现在狂热地爱上了另一个男人，我一天不见他都很难受！我真的不知道该怎幺办。 
佛：你能确定你现在爱上的这个男人就是你生命里唯一的最后一个男人吗？ 
人：是的。 我有很多年没有动心了！遇上的这一刻，我不想错过！
佛：你离婚，然后嫁他。 
人：可是我现在的爱人勤奋，善良，有责任，我这样做是否有一点残忍，有一点不道德。 
佛：在婚姻中没有爱才是残忍和不道德的，你现在爱上了别人已不爱他了，你这样做是正确的。 
人：可是我爱人很爱我，真的很爱我。 
.. 
Do you really think, that i was even know .. A married woman i picked 
it is not to be controlled my actions
it is not to be captured
it has it's own laws
that we do not know
but when a man or a woman comes along and he or she not the right one
he or she is just another part,
to the road of your love,
he who is 'the one' forgive my effrontery
is in many ways he just like you, love you and sure he care about you
Yes, i have the courage to know that i was waiting for nothing, 
but my feelings wasn't nothing, dear my killer read this carefully for maybe it will be my last letters

A husband should be
Loyal and honest
A husband should be
Strong and protective
A husband should be 
Loving and romantic
A husband should be 
Patient and understanding
A husband should know
When enough is enough
A husband should know 
When to fight and when to cry
A husband should know
all your goals and dreams
A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses
A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his
Keep her always in the center of your eye. 

Talk

You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. 
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. 
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words many indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly. 
There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone. 
The silence of lonesomeness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape. 
And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand. 
And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words. 
In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence. 
When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue. 
Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear; 
For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered 
When the color is forgotten and the vessel is no more.

Our inner peace

The tempest calmed after bending the branches of the trees and leaning heavily upon the grain in the field. The stars appeared as broken remnants of lightning, but now silence prevailed over all, as if Nature's war had never been fought. 

At that hour a young woman entered her chamber and knelt by her bed sobbing bitterly. Her heart flamed with agony but she could finally open her lips and say, "Oh Lord, bring him home safely to me. I have exhausted my patience nd can offer no more, oh Lord, full of love and mercy. My patience is drained and calamity is seeking possession of my heart. Save him, oh Lord, from the iron paws of War; deliver him from such unmerciful Death, for he is weak, governed by the strong. Oh Lord, save my beloved from the foe, who is Thy foe. Keep him from the forced pathway to Death's door; let him see me, or come and take me to him." 
Quietly a young man entered. His head was wrapped in bandage soaked with escaping life. 

He approached he with a greeting of tears and laughter, then took her hand and placed against it his flaming lips. And with a voice with bespoke past sorrow, and joy of union, and uncertainty of her reaction, he said, "Fear me not, for I am the object of your plea. Be glad, for Peace has carried me back safely to you, and humanity has restored what greed essayed to take from us. Be not sad, but smile, my beloved. Do not express bewilderment, for Love has power that dispels Death; charm that conquers the enemy. I am your one. Think me not a specter emerging from the House of Death to visit your Home of Beauty. 

"Do not be frightened, for I am now Truth, spared from swords and fire to reveal to the people the triumph of Love over War. I am Word uttering introduction to the play of happiness and peace." 
Then the young man became speechless and his tears spoke the language of the heart; and the angels of Joy hovered about that dwelling, and the two hearts restored the singleness which had been taken from them. 
At dawn the two stood in the middle of the field contemplating the beauty of Nature injured by the tempest. After a deep and comforting silence, the soldier said to his sweetheart, " Yes my beloved i believe in miracles, Look at the Darkness, giving birth to the Sun.

Good evening .. it wasn't goodbye. 

Pray with me

You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance. 
For what is prayer but the expansion of yourself into the living ether? 
And if it is for your comfort to pour your darkness into space, it is also for your delight to pour forth the dawning of your heart. 
And if you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer, she should spur you again and yet again, though weeping, until you shall come laughing. 
When you pray you rise to meet in the air those who are praying at that very hour, and whom save in prayer you may not meet. 
Therefore let your visit to that temple invisible be for naught but ecstasy and sweet communion. 
For if you should enter the temple for no other purpose than asking you shall not receive. 
And if you should enter into it to humble yourself you shall not be lifted: 
Or even if you should enter into it to beg for the good of others you shall not be heard. 
It is enough that you enter the temple invisible. 
I cannot teach you how to pray in words. 
God listens not to your words save when He Himself utters them through your lips. 
And I cannot teach you the prayer of the seas and the forests and the mountains. 
But you who are born of the mountains and the forests and the seas can find their prayer in your heart, 
And if you but listen in the stillness of the night you shall hear them saying in silence,
Shooo, Listen ..

But what of our Laws

You delight in laying down laws, 
Yet you delight more in breaking them. 
Like children playing by the ocean who build sand-towers with constancy and then destroy them with laughter. 
But while you build your sand-towers the ocean brings more sand to the shore, 
And when you destroy them, the ocean laughs with you. 
Verily the ocean laughs always with the innocent. 
But what of those to whom life is not an ocean, and man-made laws are not sand-towers, 
But to whom life is a rock, and the law a chisel with which they would carve it in their own likeness? 
What of the cripple who hates dancers? ? 
What of the old serpent who cannot shed his skin, and calls all others naked and shameless? 
And of him who comes early to the wedding-feast, and when over-fed and tired goes his way saying that all feasts are violation and all festers law-breakers? 
What shall I say of these save that they too stand in the sunlight, but with their backs to the sun? 
They see only their shadows, and their shadows are their laws. 
And what is the sun to them but a caster of shadows? 
And what is it to acknowledge the laws but to stoop down and trace their shadows upon the earth? 
But you who walk facing the sun, what images drawn on the earth can hold you? 
You who travel with the wind, what weathervane shall direct your course? 
What man's law shall bind you if you break your yoke but upon no man's prison door? 
What laws shall you fear if you dance but stumble against no man's iron chains? 
And who is he that shall bring you to judgment if you tear off your garment yet leave it in no man's path? 
people of Charlotte, you can muffle the drum, and you can loosen the strings of the lyre, but who shall command the skylark not to sing? 

Good morning Swety .. Have you !!

Let me show you the real pleasure

Pleasure is a freedom song. 
But it is not freedom. 
It is the blossoming of your desires, 
But it is not their fruit. 
It is a depth calling unto a height, 
But it is not the deep nor the high. 
It is the caged taking wing, 
But it is not space encompassed. 
Ay, in very truth, pleasure is a freedom-song. 
And I fain would have you sing it with fullness of heart; yet I would not have you lose your hearts in the singing. 
Some of your youth seek pleasure as if it were all, and they are judged and rebuked. 
I would not judge nor rebuke them. I would have them seek. 
For they shall find pleasure, but not her alone: 
two are my daughters, Shall i say three... and the least of them is more beautiful than pleasure. 
Have you not heard of the man who was digging in the earth for roots and found  ... a treasure.!! 
And some of your elders remember pleasures with regret like wrongs committed in drunkenness. 
But regret is the beclouding of the mind and not its chastisement. 
They should remember their pleasures with gratitude, as they would the harvest of a summer. 
Yet if it comforts them to regret, let them be comforted. 
And there are among you those who are neither young to seek nor old to remember; 
And in their fear of seeking and remembering they shun all pleasures, lest they neglect the spirit or offend against it. 
But even in their foregoing is their pleasure. 
And thus they too find a treasure though they dig for roots with quivering hands. 
But tell me, who is he that can offend the spirit? 
Shall the nightingale offend the stillness of the night, or the firefly the stars? 
And shall your flame or your smoke burden the wind? 
Think you the spirit is a still pool which you can trouble with a staff? 
Oftentimes in denying yourself pleasure you do but store the desire in the recesses of your being. 
Who knows but that which seems omitted today, waits for tomorrow? 
Even your body knows its heritage and its rightful need and will not be deceived. 
And your body is the harp of your soul, 
And it is yours to bring forth sweet music from it or confused sounds. 
And now you ask in your heart, "How shall we distinguish that which is good in pleasure from that which is not good?" 
Go to your fields and your gardens, and you shall learn that it is the pleasure of the bee to gather honey of the flower, 
But it is also the pleasure of the flower to yield its honey to the bee. 
For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life, 
And to the flower a bee is a messenger of love, 
And to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy. 
People of Charlotte, be in your pleasures like the flowers and the bees.

Shooo .. Just listen ..

Together, Forever

If we can fight together, we must strive together 
If we can play together, we must pray together 
If we can plan together, we must stand together 
If we can cry together, we must try together 
The future of man is built on a plan 
Of working together whenever, wherever, however we can 
So "if" must stand so tall 
And "must" alone, cannot fall 
For together, forever we bring the best, the good of it all

About Death

You would know the secret of death. 
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? 
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. 
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. 
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. 
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; 
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. 
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. 
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor. 
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king? 
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling? 
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? 
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered? 
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. 
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. 
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. 

About religions

Is not religion all deeds and all reflection, 
And that which is neither deed nor reflection, but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the soul, even while the hands hew the stone or tend the loom? 
Who can separate his faith from his actions, or his belief from his occupations? 
Who can spread his hours before him, saying, 'This for God and this for myself; This for my soul, and this other for my body?' 
All your hours are wings that beat through space from self to self. 
He who wears his morality but as his best garment were better naked. 
The wind and the sun will tear no holes in his skin. 
And he who defines his conduct by ethics imprisons his song-bird in a cage. 
The freest song comes not through bars and wires. 
And he to whom worshipping is a window, to open but also to shut, has not yet visited the house of his soul whose windows are from dawn to dawn. 
Your daily life is your temple and your religion. 
Whenever you enter into it take with you your all. 
Take the plough and the forge and the mallet and the lute, 
The things you have fashioned in necessity or for delight. 
For in revery you cannot rise above your achievements nor fall lower than your failures. 
And take with you all men: 
For in adoration you cannot fly higher than their hopes nor humble yourself lower than their despair. 
And if you would know God be not therefore a solver of riddles. 
Rather look about you and you shall see Him playing with your children. 
And look into space; you shall see Him walking in the cloud, outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in rain. 
You shall see Him smiling in flowers, then rising and waving His hands in trees.

Giving and Taking

Once there lived a man who had a valley-full of needles. And oneday the mother came to him and said: 'my deargarment is torn and I must needs mend it before he goeth to thetemple. Wouldst thou not give me a needle?'And he gave her not a needle, but he gave her a learned discourseon Giving and Taking to carry to her daughter before he should go tothe temple.

:You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow? And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the over prudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city? And what is fear of need but need itself? Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, thirst that is unquenchable? There are those who give little of the much which they have - and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome. And there are those who have little and give it all. These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty. There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward. And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism. And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue; They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space. Though the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth. It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding; And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving And is there aught you would withhold? All you have shall some day be given; Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors'. You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving." The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture. They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish. Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights is worthy of all else from you. And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream. And what desert greater shall there be than that which lies in the courage and the confidence, nay the charity, of receiving? And who are you that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see their worth naked and their pride unabashed? See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving. For in truth it is life that gives unto life - while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness. And you receivers - and you are all receivers - assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives. Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings.

I Do. aren't you !!

You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. 
You shall be together when white wings of death scatter your days. 
Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God. 
But let there be spaces in your togetherness, 
And let the winds of the heaven dance between you. 
Love one another but make not a bond of love: 
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. 
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup. 
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. 
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, 
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. 
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping. 
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. 
And stand together, yet not too near together: 
For the pillars of the temple stand apart, 
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow. 

深情的丈夫 .. About Love.. but first ..empty your cup

When love beckons to you follow him, 
Though his ways are hard and steep. 
And when his wings enfold you yield to him, 
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. 
And when he speaks to you believe in him, 
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. 
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. 
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, 
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. 
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself. 
He threshes you to make you naked. 
He sifts you to free you from your husks. 
He grinds you to whiteness. 
He kneads you until you are pliant; 
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast. 
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart. 
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, 
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, 
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. 
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. 
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; 
For love is sufficient unto love. 
When you love you should not say, 'God is in my heart,' but rather, I am in the heart of God.' 
And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. 
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself. 
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: 
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. 
To know the pain of too much tenderness. 
To be wounded by your own understanding of love; 
And to bleed willingly and joyfully. 
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; 
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; 
To return home at eventide with gratitude; 
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

My Love .. We Changed "Arabic Poem"

تغير كل ما فينا..تغيرنا

تغير لون بشرتنا ...

تساقط زهر روضتنا

تهاوى سحر ماضينا

تغير كل ما فينا...تغيرنا

زمان كان يسعدنا ...نراه الآن يشقينا

وحب عاش في دمنا ...تسرب بين أيدينا

وشوق كان يحملنا ...فتسكرت أمانينا

ولحن كان يبعثنا ...إذا ماتت أغانينا تغيرنا

تغيرنا ....تغير كل ما فينا

وأعجب من حكايتنا ...تكسر نبضها فينا

كهوف الصمت تجمعنا ...دروب الخوف تلقينا

وصرتِ حبيبتي طيفا لشيئ كان في صدري

قضينا العمر يفرحنا ....وعشنا العمر يبكينا

غدونا بعده موتى ..فمن يا قلب يحيينا ؟

Good and Evil

Of the good in you I can speak, but not of the evil. 
For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst? 
Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts, it drinks even of dead waters. 
You are good when you are one with yourself. 
Yet when you are not one with yourself you are not evil. 
For a divided house is not a den of thieves; it is only a divided house. 
And a ship without rudder may wander aimlessly among perilous isles yet sink not to the bottom. 
You are good when you strive to give of yourself. 
Yet you are not evil when you seek gain for yourself. 
For when you strive for gain you are but a root that clings to the earth and sucks at her breast. 
Surely the fruit cannot say to the root, 
"Be like me, ripe and full and ever giving of your abundance." 
For to the fruit giving is a need, as receiving is a need to the root. 
You are good when you are fully awake in your speech, 
Yet you are not evil when you sleep while your tongue staggers without purpose. 
And even stumbling speech may strengthen a weak tongue. 
You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps. 
Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping. 
Even those who limp go not backward. 
But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness. 
You are good in countless ways, and you are not evil when you are not good, 
You are only loitering and sluggard. 
Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the turtles. 
In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you. 
But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest. 
And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the shore. 
But let not him who longs much say to him who longs little, "Wherefore are you slow and halting?" 
For the truly good ask not the naked, "
Where is your garment?" nor the houseless,
"What has befallen your house?
Clarity my queen .. Clarity which mean .... Oh..!!

Friendships

Your friend is your needs answered. 
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving. 
And he is your board and your fireside. 
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace. 
When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay." 
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart; 
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed. 
When you part from your friend, you grieve not; 
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain. 
And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit. 
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught. 
And let your best be for your friend. 
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also. 
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill? 
Seek him always with hours to live. 
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness. 
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. 
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed. 
Past wounds

My reason, My Passion

Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against passion and your appetite. 

Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody. 

But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers, nay, the lovers of all your elements.? 

Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. 

If either your sails or our rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. 

For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; 

and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction. 

Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion; that it may sing; 

And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes. 

I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two loved guests in your house. 

Surely you would not honor one guest above the other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and the faith of both. 

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows - then let your heart say in silence, "God rests in reason." 

And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, - then let your heart say in awe, "God moves in passion." 

And since you are a breath In God's sphere, and a leaf in God's forest, you too..

Should rest in reason. And move in passion.

Your Pain was mine.

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. 
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. 
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy; 
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields. 
And you would watch with serenity through the winters; silently my seeds blooming
Much of your pain is self-chosen. 
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. 
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility: 
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen, 
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

About love ..O

Love one another, but make not a bond of love.
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup, but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread, but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone.

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together.
For the pillars of the temple stand apart.
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

Tears and laughter

As the Sun withdrew his rays from the garden, and the moon threw cushioned beams upon the flowers, I sat under the trees pondering upon the phenomena of the atmosphere, looking through the branches at the strewn stars which glittered like chips of silver upon a blue carpet; and I could hear from a distance the agitated murmur of the rivulet singing its way briskly into the valley. 
When the birds took shelter among the boughs, and the flowers folded their petals, and tremendous silence descended, I heard a rustle of feet though the grass. I took heed and saw a young couple approaching my arbor. The say under a tree where I could see them without being seen. 
After he looked about in every direction, I heard the ..
Young man saying,
"Sit by me, my beloved, and listen to my heart; smile, for your happiness is a symbol of our future; be merry, for the sparkling days rejoice with us. 
My soul is warning me of the doubt in your heart, for doubt in love is a sin. "Soon you will be the owner of this vast land, lighted by this beautiful moon; soon you will be the mistress of my palace, and all the servants and maids will obey your commands. 
"Smile, my beloved, like the gold smiles from my father's coffers. 
"My heart refuses to deny you its secret. Twelve months of comfort and travel await us; for a year we will spend my father's gold at the blue lakes of USA, and viewing the Pyramids in Egypt, and resting under the Holy Cedars of Lebanon; you will meet the princesses who will envy you for your jewels and clothes. "All these things I will do for you; will you be satisfied?" 

In a little while I saw them walking and stepping on flowers as the rich step upon the hearts of the poor. As they disappeared from my sight, I commenced to make comparison between love and money, and to analyze their position in the heart. 
"Money....!
The source of insincere love;
The spring of false light and fortune; 
The well of poisoned water; 
The desperation of old age! 

I was still wandering in the vast desert of contemplation when a forlorn and specter-like couple passed by me and sat on the grass; a young man and a young woman who had left their farming shacks in the nearby fields for this cool and solitary place. 
After a few moments of complete silence, I heard the following words uttered with sighs from weather-bitten lips, 
"Shed not tears, my beloved; love that opens our eyes and enslaves our hearts can give us the blessing of patience. Be consoled in our delay our delay, for we have taken an oath and entered Love's shrine; for our love will ever grow in adversity; for it is in Love's name that we are suffering the obstacles of poverty and the sharpness of misery and the emptiness of separation. I shall attack these hardships until I triumph and place in your hands a strength that will help over all things to complete the journey of our life. 
"Love - which is God - will consider our sighs and tears as incense burned at His altar and He will reward us with fortitude. Good-bye, my beloved; I must leave before the heartening moon vanishes."
A pure voice, combined of the consuming flame of love, and the hopeless bitterness of longing and the resolved sweetness of patience, said, "Good-bye, my beloved." 

They separated, and the elegy to their union was smothered by the wails of my crying heart. 
I looked upon slumbering Nature, and with deep reflection discovered the reality of a vast and infinite thing.. 
Something no power could demand, influence acquire, nor riches purchase. Nor could it be effaced by the tears of time or deadened by sorrow; 
A thing which cannot be discovered by the blue lakes of USA or the beautiful View to Pyramids. 
It is something that gathers strength with patience, 
grows despite obstacles, warms in winter, 
flourishes in spring, 
casts a breeze in summer, 
and bears fruit in autumn, 
I found Love, I found ..you. 

Other desires

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself 
But if your love and must needs have desires, 
Let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook 
That sings its melody to the night. 
To know the pain of too much tenderness. 
To be wounded by your own understanding of love; 
And to bleed willingly and joyfully. 
To wake at dawn with a winged heart 
And give thanks for another day of loving; 
To rest at the moon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; 
To return home at eventide with gratitude; 
And then to sleep with a prayer 
For the beloved in your heart 
And a song of "only you can love me this way" upon your lips. 
Now silently repeat after me ..
I fall, I rise, I make mistakes, I have been hurt,
But i'm a human
I live, I learn, i'm not perfect
But I'll always be .. Thankful
And let me sex your mind.

Houses

Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness ere you build a house within the city walls. 
For even as you have home-comings in your twilight, so has the wanderer in you, the ever distant and alone. 
Your house is your larger body. 
It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night; and it is not dreamless. 
Does not your house dream? And dreaming, leave the city for grove or hilltop? 
Would that I could gather your houses into my hand, and like a sower scatter them in forest and meadow. 
Would the valleys were your streets, and the green paths your alleys, that you might seek one another through vineyards, and come with the fragrance of the earth in your garments. 
But these things are not yet to be. 
In their fear your forefathers gathered you too near together. And that fear shall endure a little longer. A little longer shall your city walls separate your hearths from your fields. 
And tell me, people of cities, what have you in these houses? And what is it you guard with fastened doors? 
Have you peace, the quiet urge that reveals your power? 
Have you remembrances, the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind? 
Have you beauty, that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain? 
Tell me, have you these in your houses? 
Or have you only comfort, and the lust for comfort, that stealth things that enters the house a guest, and becomes a host, and then a master? 
Ay, and it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires. 
Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron. 
It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh. 
It makes mock of your sound senses, and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels. 
Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning in the funeral. 
But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed. 
Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast. 
It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound, but an eyelid that guards the eye. 
You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors, nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling, nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down. 
You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living. 
And though of magnificence and splendoor, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing. 
For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night.