LISTEN, MY heart, in his flute is the music of the smell of wild flowers, of the glistening leaves and gleaming water, of-shadows resonant with bees' wings. The flute steals his smile from my friend's lips and spreads it over my life.
BE NOT ashamed, my brothers, to stand before the proud and the powerful with your white robe of simpleness. Let your crown be of humility, your freedom the freedom of the soul. Build God's throne daily upon the ample bareness of your poverty, and know that what is huge is not great and pride is not everlasting.
