The Universe Of Poetry Is The Universe

Not All Things Are Blest, But The Seeds Of All Things Are Blest.

Breathe-in Experience, Breathe-out Poetry.

Reality Is The Completion Of Experience.

Slowly I Would Get To Pen And Paper, Make My Poems For Others Unseen And Unborn. In The Day I Would Be Reminded Of Those Men And Women, Brave, Setting Up Signals Across Vast Distances, Considering A Nameless Way Of Living, Of Almost Unimagined Values.

The Universe Of Poetry Is The Universe Of Emotional Truth. Our Material Is In The Way We Feel And The Way We Remember.