I Teach My Sighs To

The Damage Of Teaching: The Constant Contact With The Undeveloped.

Love Is Not Love Until Love's Vulnerable.

God Bless The Roots! Body And Soul Are One.

The Light Comes Brighter From The East; The Cawof Restive Crows Is Sharper On The Ear.

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.