The best of humanity's recorded history is a creative balance between horrors endured and victories achieved, and so it was during the Harlem Renaissance.

A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.

Upon the lips of babes asleep I saw light embracing light and so allowed my syllables to rest there as a prayer they might sing in their dreams.

Varieties of angels, like varieties of love, are many.

At the edge of madness you howl diamonds and pearls.

Like a Passover Poet gliding from house to house and from trembling soul to trembling soul the wind scribbled sonnets of first time love and weeping haikus of last hours on earth.

You were born a child of light’s wonderful secret— you return to the beauty you have always been.