I Have Never Observed That The Religious

We White People Think That We Know Everything.

The Food That Memory Gives To Eat Is Bitter To The Taste, And It Is Only With The Teeth Of Hope That We Can Bear To Bite It.

That Which Is Alive Hath Known Death, And That Which Is Dead Can Never Die, For In The Circle Of The Spirit Life Is Naught And Death Is Naught. Yea, All Things Live Forever, Though At Times They Sleep And Are Forgotten.

My Death Is Very Near To Me, And Of This I Am Glad, For I Desire To Pursue The Quest In Other Realms, As It Has Been Promised To Me That I Shall Do.

As I Grow Older, I Regret To Say That A Detestable Habit Of Thinking Seems To Be Getting A Hold Of Me.