We Are The Ghosts Of The Singing

Death Is A Meeting Place Of Sea And Sea.

It Is Moonlight. Alone In The Silence I Ascend My Stairs Once More, While Waves Remote In Pale Blue Starlight Crash On A White Sand Shore. It Is Moonlight. The Garden Is Silent. I Stand In My Room Alone. Across My Wall, From The Far-off Moon, A Rain Of Fire Is Thrown. There Are Houses Hanging Above The Stars, And Stars Hung Under The Sea, And A Wind From The Long Blue Vault Of Time Waves My Curtains For Me. I Wait In The Dark Once More, Swung Between Space And Space: Before The Mirror I Lift My Hands And Face My Remembered Face.

Poetry Will Absorb And Transmute, As It Always Has Done, And Glorify, All That We Can Know.

Forward Into The Untrodden! Courage, Old Man, And Hold On To Your Umbrella!

Youth Yearns To Youth, Full Blood Loves Full Blood Only.