I Hear The Singing Of

Nourish Beginnings, Let Us Nourish Beginnings. Not All Things Are Blest, But The Seeds Of All Things Are Blest. The Blessing Is In The Seed.

I Lived In The First Century Of World Wars. Most Mornings I Would Be More Or Less Insane.

We Sit Here, Very Different Each From The Other, Until The Passion Arrives To Give Us Our Equality, To Make Us Part Of The Play, To Make The Play Part Of Us.

A World Is To Be Fought For, Sung, And Built: Love Must Imagine The World.

The Universe Of Poetry Is The Universe Of Emotional Truth. Our Material Is In The Way We Feel And The Way We Remember.