So you asked what is wrong with the world that we see

They filled my eyesand then spilled out.There was no sadnessand no mourning,I wondered what it was about.I think the reasonthat the tearsrun down our face in rivuletsis that they wash away our fearsand selfish thoughts one sometimes gets.It’s true that heartache is the motherof all the tiny drops of dew.But we don’t shed tears for…

Though the Rabbi wore a habit he was notspending time inside the Abbey on the pot.Often monks smoked funny grasses and they brewedmaking life so much more pleasant, less subdued.It’s a funny and exotic life indeed,even holy men are partial to the weed.

and poverty?Is therea Godto lookwith kindnessuponthis continent?Three million yearsit tookto let the scumof filth,of warand genociderise tothe top.It stays afloatthroughthe calamityof gold.Some saythat Africais now,at lastto come of age.A strongand healthy continentis just beyondthe far horizon,calledFata Morgana.

Sie wußtens nicht und habens jeden Falls– sein Wandeln, seine Haltung, seinen Hals,bis in des stillen Blickes Licht – geliebt.Zwar war es nicht. Doch weil sie’s liebten, wardein reines Tier. Sie ließen immer Raum.Und in dem Raume, klar und ausgespart,erhob es leicht sein Haupt und brauchte kaumzu sein. Sie nährten es mit keinem Korn,nur immer…

I say all time is fickleit never talks of hope.We touched and talked for hoursthe minutes oozed to groundsurrounded by fine flowerswe held what we had found.Today we’re reminiscinghow precious each short daysomehow a kiss is missingour past has gone away.We never knew to treasureeach moment that we hadour souls have stored the pleasureof that…

through simmering heat of what is called Death Valley,while dreaming of the Napa Valley and its wine.It thought, most of the time, of self as tumbleweedwhich had a modicum of class attached,and when the day was done and the horizonhad bathed itself in stunning sunset glowit often visualised a life as one big ball of…