Life is a trial. Some are innocent, some guilty, some win, some lose. Everyone executed at the end....

We enter and leave on a path of white light. Once here, we are red, yellow or blue. The white light is the world as it is, not as we are....

Under the sun, the world of the self. In the night sky, we see the soul....

In the white light we see things right. Yet our mind is like a prism that puts us in a prison. We see things as red, yellow or blue but that's simply not true....

$38 can of paint brushed on a canvass, priceless spilled on the floor, worthless....

The road ahead is very clear, as the light reveals all that's near. Shadows form from light that's passed, as what is now doesn't last....

Love comes from the sun. Our soul loves the light of the sun. Our self loves the warmth of the sun....

Verbs are fluid, time passing. Nouns are imaginary, moments frozen in time. Verbs are the happening, nouns are the happened....

A bell ringing in the empty sky. Its sound still here, after it's not. Much ringing from times now passed. Can't see the sun on a noisy day....