She Stood There Until Something Fell Off

Most Things Are Born In The Mothering Darkness And Most Things Die. Darkness Is The Womb Of Creation, My Boy. But The Sun With His Seven Horns Of Flame Is The Father Of Life.

The Sun, The Hero Of Every Day, The Impersonal Old Man That Beams As Brightly On Death As On Birth, Came Up Every Morning.

She Often Spoke To Falling Seeds And Said, "ah Hope You Fall On Soft Ground," Because She Had Heard Seeds Saying That To Each Other As They Passed. The Familiar People And Things Had Failed Her So She Hung Over The Gate And Looked Up The Road Towards Way Off. She Knew Now That Marriage Did Not Make Love. Janie's First Dream Was Dead, So She Became A Woman.

You Can't Beat Me And My Prayers!

It Seems Like The First Law Of Nature Is That Everybody Likes To Receive Things, But Nobody Likes To Feel Grateful.