“At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.”
~ T.S. Eliot, from Burnt Norton, Four Quartets
Those who will not slip beneath the still surface on the well of grief,
You and I have spoken all these words / but for the way we have to go, words are no preparation
"I hope to God you will not ask me to go anywhere except my own country
In the heart of Gaza, where ancient stones whisper tales of endurance
In remembrance of the renowned jazz saxophonist, composer, and SGI Buddhist practitioner
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