Love
Like the placud, cool stream which suddenly becomes the rapids and feels power within itself, we are fooled by the loudness of our thinking. Our clay thoughts want immortal life like the mountain, and to soar above the rest like the eagle not realizing we are but a speck of dust in the magnificence of creation. The bound wishes to be free so foolishly calls his motions freedom. and so we spin great webs of circular reasoning, calling them virtue, greatness and knowledge while Truth stands amused... Sign in to see full entry.