Old Love, Middle Love, The

I Truly Think That You Can't Go And Stalk Your Material, You Have To Leave The Door Open And Whatever Chooses You, Chooses You. You Can't Go And Wrestle It To The Ground.

Some People Meet The Way The Sky Meets The Earth, Inevitably, And There Is No Stopping Or Holding Back Their Love. It Exists In A Finished World, Beyond The Reach Of Common Sense.

Coming Down Off The Trail, I Am Lost In My Own Thoughts And Unprepared When A Bear Chugs Across The Path Just Before It Gives Out On The Gravel Road. I Am So Distracted That I Keep Walking Towards The Bear. I Only Stop When It Rears, Stands On Hind Legs, And Stares At Me, Sensitive Nose Pressed Into The Air, Weak Eyes Searching. I Have Never Been This Close To A Wild Bear Before, But I Am Not Frightened. There Is No Menace In Its Stance; It Is Not Even Curious. The Bear Seems To Know Who Or What I Am. The Bear Is Not Impressed.

Numbers, Time, Inches, Feet. All Are Just Ploys For Cutting Nature Down To Size.

I Was In Love With The Whole World And All That Lived In Its Rainy Arms.