Art Is The Means We

Love Is Not Love Until Love's Vulnerable.

Death Was Not. I Lived In A Simple Drowse:hands And Hair Moved Through A Dream Of Wakening Blossoms.rain Sweetened The Cave And The Dove Still Called;the Flowers Leaned On Themselves, The Flowers In Hollows;and Love, Love Sang Toward.

The Visible Exhausts Me. I Am Dissolved In Shadow.

O Lord, May I Never Want To Look Good. O Jesus, May I Always Read It All: Out Loud And The Very Way It Should Be. May I Never Look At The Other Findings Until I Have Come To My Own True Conclusions: May I Care For The Least Of The Young: And Become Aware Of The One Poem That Each May Have Written; May I Be Aware Of What Each Thing Is, Delighted With Form, And Wary Of The False Comparison; May I Never Use The Word "brilliant."

In A Dark Time, The Eye Begins To See / I Meet My Shadow In The Deepening Shade...dark, Dark My Light, And Darker My Desire.