In the hollows of quiet places
we may meet,
the quiet places where is neither
moon nor sun,
but only the light of amber and
pale gold
that comes from the Hills of
the Heart.
~ Fiona MacLeod
Into my life You came like a storm of monsoon
banging down from the eastern sky.
And You scattered me, like the wind disperses
dry grass and the petals of flowers.
Out of myself You scattered me into Nothingness,
Beyond the Nowhere, beyond the Beyond.