Intuition exhausts itself in the given

That power whose wisdom lies in the depths of the hidden, authorises itself to retreat in order to be what it is. When events overlay all that is interwoven within, the cycle of the seer is exhausted, distance is added to the seer. Lost is that precious thing whose expression gives wisdom to life. Feeling the place of retreat, the lovely strives for the light of each day, whose darkness unites in the course of time, listening to all that life gives between the words. That view of things, however, leads to the sense of joy, whose faith renounces all rules, far from the truth of self-reference.