When fear joins the dance of life, the free spirit pays his limited respect to himself. Any courage turns into suspicion, subject to the baffling habit. Every marvellous voice falls victim to the opposite of intuition, to the traces of maturity gone astray. While order calls to the land below, obedience a true blessing. Only those who have grown weary of following the path and who, wandering, devote themselves to time, scattering seeds, ponder to themselves. That touch, of the involved few, much, weaned from need, adds itself to the quiet glow of contented searching long since found: nothingness richly bestows every abundance.
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