The poverty of the heart is thinking we can’t love again. Sure we can, and sure we will. Don’t be scared of loving, worry about turning stone-cold. That is the disease of being on the guard for too long after the first blow. We will keep on loving peacefully, never holding onto the running rivers…

Let the rivers flow, butterflies flap their wings… Let life dance and take form naturally, organically let everything be and find their own rhythm. So beautiful, my beautiful, feel your heart be enriched by living and let living live.