My Strength And My Weakness

Only When We Break The Mirror And Climb Into Our Vision, Only When We Are The Wind Together Streaming And Singing, Only In The Dream We Become With Our Bones For Spears, We Are Real At Last And Wake.

Remember That Every Son Had A Mother Whose Beloved Son He Was, And Every Woman Had A Mother Whose Beloved Son She Wasn't.

Purple As Tulips In May, Mauve Into Lush Velvet, Purple As The Stain Blackberries Leave On The Lips, On The Hands, The Purple Of Ripe Grapes Sunlit And Warm As Flesh.

The Work Of The World Is Common As Mud. Botched, It Smears The Hands, Crumbles To Dust. But The Thing Worth Doing Well Done Has A Shape That Satisfies, Clean And Evident.

In Her Bottled Up Is A Woman Peppery As Curry, A Yam Of A Woman Of Butter And Brass.