You Don't Live On The Earth, You

One Drop Of That Ocean Is Hope, And The Rest Is Fear.

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.

I Am Yours. Don't Give Myself Back To Me.

Life S Picture Is Constantly Undergoing Change. The Spirit Beholds A New World Every Moment.

Every Rose That Is Sweet-scented Within, That Rose Is Telling Of The Secrets Of The Universal.