Love Is Form, And Cannot

Were All Moving, Moving, Moving. Isnt It Nice?

Knowledge Is The Harvest Of Attention

Of Rhythm Is Image / Of Image Is Knowing / Of Knowing There Is / A Construct

This Morning Of The Small Snow I Count The Blessings, The Leak In The Faucet Which Makes Of The Sink Time, The Drop Of The Water On Water.

Atlantis Will Rise Again.