Be Sure That Whatever You

I Teach My Sighs To Lengthen Into Songs.

I Bleed My Bones, Their Marrow To Bestowupon That God Who Knows What I Would Know.

I Came To Love, I Came Into My Own.

You Must Believe: A Poem Is A Holy Thing - A Good Poem, That Is. The Poem, Even A Short Time After Being Written, Seems No Miracle; Unwritten, It Seems Something Beyond The Capacity Of The Gods.

The Mind Enters Itself, And God The Mind, And One Is One, Free In The Tearing Wind.