Now I Am Nothing But A Veil;

Many Things Can Wait. Children Cannot. Today Their Bones Are Being Formed, Their Blood Is Being Made, Their Senses Are Being Developed. To Them We Cannot Say "tomorrow." Their Name Is Today.

Let The Earth Look At Me, And Bless Me, For Now I Am Fecund And Sacred, Like The Palms And The Furrows.

Love That Stammers, That Stutters, Is Apt To Be The Love That Loves Best.

What The Soul Is To The Body, So Is The Artist To His People.

In The Secret Of Night, My Prayer Climbs Like The Liana, My Prayer Is, And I Am Not. It Grows, And I Perish. I Have Only My Hard Breath, My Reason And My Madness. I Cling To The Vine Of My Prayer. I Tend It At The Root Of The Stalk Of Night.