My teachings will come like the rain, like a mist falling to the ground, like a gentle rain on the soft grass, like rain on the green plants.


















I wish I knew where to find him. I wish I knew how to go to where he lives (source)


Nothing remains constant except change itself.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s