You See How I Try To Reach

Under Various Names, I Have Praised Only You, Rivers! You Are Milk And Honey And Love And Death And Dance. From A Spring In Hidden Grottoes, Seeping From Mossy Rocks, Where A Goddess Pours Live Water From A Pitcher, At Clear Streams In The Meadow, Where Rills Murmur Underground, Your Race And My Race Begin, And Amazement, And Quick Passage.

The Purpose Of Poetry Is To Remind Us / How Difficult It Is To Remain Just One Person.

A True Opium Of The People Is A Belief In Nothingness After Death - The Huge Solace Of Thinking That For Our Betrayals, Greed, Cowardice, Murders We Are Not Going To Be Judged.

Do You Know How It Is When One Wakes At Night Suddenly And Asks, Listening To The Pounding Heart: What More Do You Want, Insatiable?

Forget The Suffering You Caused Others. Forget The Suffering Others Caused You. The Waters Run And Run, Springs Sparkle And Are Done, You Walk The Earth You Are Forgetting.