I weave your name on the loom of my mind To clean and soften ten thousand threads And to comb the twists and knots of my thoughts. No more shall I weave a garment of pain. For you have come to me, drawn by my weaving, Ceaselessly weaving your name on the loom of my mind.
Come away from the din. Come away to the quiet fields, over which the great sky stretches, and where, between us and the stars, there lies but silence; and there, in the stillness let us listen to the voice that is speaking within us.
