From the journal

Never is the soul satisfied when it continues to conjure thoughts of listless desire. In the quiet of solitude, the mind's eye roams, happening upon unseen ideas and seeking subtle answers in the shelter of knowledge. The mind, and untrained fledgling flitting incessantly without proper direction. Wisdom is cultivated only in the personal garden, but its seed must be planted by the hands of a skilled Gardener. He speaks softly, in gentle parables, unknown to the fool, misunderstood by those who are not his own. He imparts direction and waters Young shoots of future. In his pockets lie assorted pleasures, which he casts upon the soil to fertilize and encourage growth. In his path, all are comforted. He speaks tenderly to the broken, words of love to his beloved. How blessed are those who follow in his footsteps. They do not falter, but are clothed in joy. How blessed are those who follow him. They grow in wisdom and discernment. The minds of those who seek him are molded into beauty. The Gardener tames the restless bird and woos it into learnedness. Joy is no longer and object of dispute to be clawed at frantically by the hearts of the broken. With the Gardener there is joy, and those who find joy can't help but distribute its abundance. How blessed are those who follow the Gardener.