The Visible Exhausts Me. I Am Dissolved

Should We Say The Self, Once Perceived, Becomes The Soul?

But When I Breath With The Birds, The Spirit Of Wrath Becomes The Spirit Of Blessings, And The Dead Begin From Their Dark To Sing In My Sleep.

The Mind Enters Itself, And God The Mind, And One Is One, Free In The Tearing Wind.

Live In A Perpetual Great Astonishment.

A Terrible Violence Of Creation,a Flash Into The Burning Heart Of The Abominable;yet If We Wait, Unafraid, Beyond The Fearful Instant,the Burning Lake Turns Into A Forest Pool,the Fire Subsides Into Rings Of Water,a Sunlit Silence.