In life's haste of words a sorrow touches. That which moves, leaving behind the horizon of the ray in this world, seizes all the sound of expression in its diversity of being maturity. Unwillingness to take surrounds the mind's cloudiness. The patience of light shines through the darkness of penetration, whose questions are devoid of all answers, in the looking gaze of what is truly carried. Nothing envelops more than the spirit's cloudiness on the path of free being.
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