I Want To Make A Poem Of

Beauty Is Something That Burns The Hand When You Touch It.

Beyond Doubt, There Was A Certain Splendor In Pain, Which Bore A Deep Affinity To The Splendor That Lies Hidden Within Strength.

We Tend To Suffer From The Illusion That We Are Capable Of Dying For A Belief Or Theory. What Hagakure Is Insisting Is That Even In Merciless Death, A Futile Death That Knows Neither Flower Nor Fruit Has Dignity As The Death Of A Human Being. If We Value So Highly The Dignity Of Life, How Can We Not Also Value The Dignity Of Death? No Death May Be Called Futile.

Suddenly The Full Long Wail Of A Ship's Horn Surged Through The Open Window And Flooded The Dim Room—a Cry Of Boundless, Dark, Demanding Grief; Pitch-black And Glabrous As A Whale's Back And Burdened With All The Passions Of The Tides, The Memory Of Voyages Beyond Counting, The Joys, The Humiliations: The Sea Was Screaming.

By Means Of Microscopic Observation And Astronomical Projection The Lotus Flower Can Become The Foundation For An Entire Theory Of The Universe And An Agent Whereby We May Perceive Truth.