All the heaven’s light cannot break, the dark shroud of our mind. What rains on us is not the water from the heavens. We build houses to give us shelter, and bridges to walk over water, and gates to keep out the lurkers of the dark. We think our world is bright, and we are proud that we beat the shroud. We think it is heaven we’ve conjured. When our heart is so infatuated with our mind, How can the heavens live with our kind?