“Is it your face that adorns this garden? Is it your fragrance that intoxicates this garden? Is it your Spirit that has made this brook a river of wine? Hundreds have looked for You, and died searching in this garden, where You hide behind the scenes. But this pain is not for those who come as lovers. You are easy to find here. You are in the breeze and in this river of wine.”
Rumi
“Speak a new language so that the world will be a new world.” Rumi

Hmmm I closed my eyes for a nap at 5:30pm and at 7:30 I wake up outside when the sprinkler I am moving sprays me in the face. Time to put that bell back on the front screen door.
I left home when I was 18, like lots of kids do. I didn’t wait until after I graduated. I didn’t even wait until the end of the day. Rather I skipped school that morning and Kris Krehmeyer skipped also. As soon as my mom left for work, Kris and I piled my clothes into his little chartreuse Karmann Ghia and we dropped them off at Terry N’s house and went back to school. Terry’s mom had agreed to let me live with them while I finished up high school, and she’d gotten us jobs with her at Sears, in the catalog phone sales center. 

