What Strange Beings We Are! That Sitting

Poems Reach Up Like Spindrift And The Edge Of Driftwood Along The Beach, Wanting! They Derive From A Slow And Powerful Root That We Can’t See. Stop The Words Now. Open The Window In The Center Of Your Chest, And Let The Spirits Fly In And Out.

Heartsick, Heartbroken - To Know Love Is To Know Pain. What Could Be More Common? Even So, Each Broken Heart Is So Singular That With It We Probe The Divine.

Jesus Was Lost In His Love For God.

I Saw Grief Drinking A Cup Of Sorrow And Called Out, 'it Tastes Sweet, Does It Not?' 'you've Caught Me,' Grief Answered, 'and You've Ruined My Business. How Can I Sell Sorrow, When You Know It's A Blessing?

If You Want Money More Than Anything, You'll Be Bought And Sold Your Whole Life.