Paradise Is Surrounded By What We Dislike;

There's No One With Intelligence In This Town Except That Man Over There Playing With The Children, The One Riding The Stick Horse. He Has Keen, Fiery Insight And Vast Dignity Like The Night Sky, But He Conceals It In The Madness Of Child's Play.

And Don't Think The Garden Loses Its Ecstasy In Winter. It's Quiet, But The Roots Are Down There Riotous.

Inside Of Us, There's A Continual Autumn. Our Leaves Fall And Are Blown Out Over The Water.

Some Huge Work Goes On Growing. How Could One Person´s Words Matter? Where You Walk Heads Pop From The Ground. What Is One Seed Head Compared To You? On My Death Day I´ll Know The Answer. I Have Cleared This House, So That Your Work Can, When It Comes, Fill Every Room. I Slide Like An Empty Boat Pulled Over The Water.

Your Mind, This Globe Of Awareness, Is A Starry Universe. When You Push Off With Your Foot, A Thousand New Roads Become Clear.