Poetry May Make Us From Time To

If We Really Want To Pray We Must First Learn To Listen, For In The Silence Of The Heart God Speaks.

Trying To Use Words, And Every Attempt Is A Wholly New Start, And A Different Kind Of Failure Because One Has Only Learnt To Get The Better Of Words For The Thing One No Longer Has To Say, Or The Way In Which One Is No Longer Disposed To Say It. And So Each Venture Is A New Beginning, A Raid On The Inarticulate With Shabby Equipment Always Deteriorating In The General Mess Of Imprecision Of Feeling.

The Communication Of The Dead Is Tongued With Fire Beyond The Language Of The Living.

I Say To You: Make Perfect Your Will. / I Say: Take No Thought Of The Harvest, / But Only Of Proper Sowing.

The Definition Of Hell Is A Place Where Nothing Connects With Nothing.