The Seas Are The Hearts Blood Of

Expect Nature To Answer To Your Human Values As To Come Into Your House And Sit In A Chair. The Economy Of Nature, Its Checks And Balances, Its Measurements Of Competing Life - All This Is Its Great Marvel And Has An Ethic Of Its Own.

We Patronize The Animals For Their Incompleteness, For Their Tragic Fate Of Having Taken Form So Far Below Ourselves. And Therein We Err, And Greatly Err. For The Animal Shall Not Be Measured By Man. In A World Older And More Complete Than Ours, They Are More Finished And Complete, Gifted With Extensions Of The Senses We Have Lost Or Never Attained, Living By Voices We Shall Never Hear. They Are Not Brethren, They Are Not Underlings; They Are Other Nations, Caught With Ourselves In The Net Of Life And Time.

Poor Body, Time And The Long Years Were The First Tailors To Teach You The Merciless Use Of Clothes. Though Some Scold Today Because You Are Too Much Seen, To My Mind, You Are Not Seen Fully Enough Or Often Enough When You Are Beautiful.

Into Every Empty Corner, Into All Forgotten Things And Nooks, Nature Struggles To Pour Life, Pouring Life Into The Dead, Life Into Life Itself.

Hold Your Hands Out Over The Earth As Over A Flame. To All Who Love Her, Who Open To Her The Doors Of Their Veins, She Gives Of Her Strength, Sustaining Them With Her Own Measureless Tremor Of Dark Life. Touch The Earth, Love The Earth, Honor The Earth, Her Plains, Her Valleys, Her Hills, And Her Seas; Rest Your Spirit In Her Solitary Places. For The Gifts Of Life Are The Earth's And They Are Given To All, And They Are The Songs Of Birds At Daybreak, Orion And The Bear, And Dawn Seen Over Ocean From The Beach.