Lovers, it is time for the taste of fire. Let sadness and your fears of death
sit in the corner and sulk.
The sky itself reels with love. There is one being inside all of us, one peace.
Poet, let every word tremble in its wind bell. Saddle the horse with great anticipation.
Flute notes are calling us into friendship. Begin again. Play the melody all the way through this time.
Sun-presence floods over. Quietness is an empty cup. Accept that you must hide your secret.
Adam A. Azim 