A Murmur In The Trees

Faith—is The Pierless Bridge Supporting What We See Unto The Scene That We Do Not— Too Slender For The Eye It Bears The Soul As Bold As It Were Rocked In Steel With Arms Of Steel At Either Side— It Joins—behind The Veil To What, Could We Presume The Bridge Would Cease To Be To Our Far, Vacillating Feet A First Necessity.

A Word That Breathes Distinctly Has Not The Power To Die

A Wounded Deer Leaps The Highest.

Judge Tenderly Of Me.

Forever Is Comprised Of Nows.