Writing these lines is foolish. Does a beautiful woman ask for a kiss? Do the thirsty need prompting to drink or the lonely a reason to open their arms? As the ink dries, it chastises me: Those who can understand me need no words and those who need my words cannot understand me. The goal is within your reach: *take it!* Why keep pushing it away? Every complaint every harsh word every sigh of despair is a hand, repulsing the arms of God. His gift is the very Creation some wish to leave. Who leaves a party in search of the party? Madness! And if they ask: How can you be so happy all the time? I would say: As long as that question makes sense to you my answer never will.