In The Middle Of The Journey Of

Love Insists The Loved Loves Back

He Loves But Little Who Can Say And Count In Words, How Much He Loves.

Here We Find The Moat Of Thieves. And Just As A Lizard, With A Quick, Slick Slither, Flicks Across The Highway From Hedge To Hedge, Fleeter Than A Flash, In The Battering Dog-day Weather, A Fiery Little Monster, Livid, In A Rage, Black As Any Peppercorn, Came And Made A Dart At The Guts Of The Others, And Leaping To Engage One Of The Pair, It Pierced Him At The Part Through Which We First Draw Food; Then Loosed Its Grip And Fell Before Him, Outstretched And Apart.

I Am Searching For That Which Every Man Seeks-peace And Rest.

...everything That Is, Desires To Be. As We Act, We Unfold Our Being. Enjoyment Naturally Follows, For A Thing Desired Always Brings Delight.