All the sounds of the world will break your heart if you listen with surrendered ears.

You want to imagine God, and there you have already lost your way. God has never been divided into any one thing - Everywhere you look Every thought you have Every yes Every no Every longing Every despair Every moment of complete satisfaction Every moment of...

Love is necessarily life and death: Circular breathing she uses to play her melody. We are the tenderest of notes, the most boisterous of crescendos, the rumble in the floorboards beneath her feet, and the faint echo lingering in the desperate ears of the hopeful. The...

flawed no up or down no left or right no forward or behind no escape from this no hate or sympathy no judgement or pardon no confusion or understanding no escape from this no darkness or light no confusion or faith no question or answer know don’t know no escape from...

what knows this? a tender question mark lives in the center of awareness it speaks to us through our hearts when we’re confused and alone it rushes out the pores of our feet when we run through the grass, so fast it’s looking back at us right now: what knows this?...

The sound of grace is heard the more we are open, free of pretense, yet full of presence, easily heard in the simplest of things, but nonetheless, heard in absolutely everything. It’s the sound of the universe listening to us through every form. It’s the sound of Love...

Nothingness. Compassion finds its roots in the embrace of nothingness: seeing emptiness slipping through so many fingers, trying to touch what already is, and witnessing all the dewy hands holding bottomless cups searching for more water, drops of rain, or at least...

you can sleep deeply tonight, for a love that does not know how to speak will carry the wicked and weak and venerate those who pray quietly to no one ...

I will not wallow at the threshold of freedom with pain knocking at this door I will not cover myself with veils of fear with pain knocking knocking at this door I will not retreat beneath the floor of comfort with pain knocking knocking knocking at this door I will,...

god is pouring out of everything i saw her hiding in your words, holding a dusty mirror... when will the mystery see itself? i see her, i see her i see you god is pouring out of everything she's living in your scars, holding a post card, reading a lost poem you wrote...