Before the thunderous clamor of political debate or war set loose in the world, love insisted on its promise for the possibility of human unity: between men and women, between blacks and whites, northerners and southerners, haves and have-have-nots, self and self.

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

Peace is not so much a political mandate as it is a shared state of consciousness that remains elevated and intact only to the degree that those who value it volunteer their existence as living examples of the same. Peace ends with the unraveling of individual hope and the emergence of the will to worship violence as a healer of private and social disease.

In a world gushing blood day and night, you never stop mopping up pain.

We can cry for years but sometimes gotta smile too.

Dare to love yourself

This fire that we call Loving is too strong for human minds. But just right for human souls.