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 overprudent 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, the thirst that is unquenchable? Continue reading
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses
your understanding. Continue reading
For the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes
To flow from my every part turn into laughter. Continue reading
ONE TUSK 