Sadly, I Part From You; Like A

The Desire To Break The Silence With Constant Human Noise Is, I Believe, Precisely An Avoidance Of The Sacred Terror Of That Divine Encounter.

This Autumn- Why Am I Growing Old? Bird Disappearing Among Clouds.

Every Day Is A Journey, And The Journey Itself Is Home.

Fresh Spring! / The World Is Only Nine Days Old - / These Fields And Mountains!

Orchidbreathing Incense Into Butterfly's Wings