"Why did you make this choice
to fall in love with fire over and over again?
Do you enjoy it when your insides are singed by a thousand candles
of the unknown?
Must you seek the brambled path to the mouth of the volcano
and risk blindness by staring deep into its heart?
Rest your head on a cold stone, drink from the cool stream that flows down the hill,
and sup not on the molten ecstasies that pour out of Her chalice."

I know no other means of being.