I do not hold too tightly to scripture.
I have learned the hard way
That brittle branches break easily.

The name is not important.
Call it what you want.
Call it sun. Or moon.
Call it lover.
Call it worm.

The name is not important.
You will know it instinctively when you cross it.
You will yearn for it without knowing its exact form.

Don’t get caught in dry dogma
Bc it is in the feeling not in its articulation.

My tongue is clumsy around foreign words.
But my heart knows the way.
And my feet follow.

To what end I do not know if there is an end?
Just a path that keeps going toward unknown destination 

Will I ever be home?