A day of silence can be a pilgrimage in itself.

Come in, my dearFrom that harsh worldThat has rained elements of stoneUpon your tender face.Every soulShould receive a toast from usFor bravery!

You don’t have to act crazy anymore—We all know you were good at that,Now retire, my dear,From all that hard work you doOf bringing pain to your sweet eyes and heart.Look in a clear mountain mirrorSee the beautiful ancient warriorAnd the divine elements You always carry insideThat infused this universe with sacred lifeSo long ago

TRIPPING OVER JOYWhat is the differenceBetween your experience of ExistenceAnd that of a saint?The saint knowsThat the spiritual pathIs a sublime chess game with GodAnd that the BelovedHas just made such a Fantastic MoveThat the saint is now continuallyTripping over JoyAnd bursting out in LaughterAnd saying, “I Surrender!”Whereas, my dear,I am afraid you still thinkYou have a thousand serious moves.