I peel a pomegranate and say to myself; Weren't it good if one could see,the seeds of people hearts ; Tears come when the juice splashes in my eyes

We are not to comprehend;the secret of roses, but maybeswimming in the incantation of roses.Or may be looking forthe song of truthbetween the morning glory,and the century.

Life is a dimension of tree in the eyes of an insect. Life is strange sence experienced by a migrating bird....

Be Vast, Solitary, Down to Earth and Firm