Tell me something only you know and make a new friend.
To dream on occasion is not dreaming, To love on occasion is not love.
Through a forest of challenges, thought moves and squirms, resisting beguilements; if it endures, it emerges pure.
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem but that is impossible; the world has written its own.
Long ago an uncalled rain fell and a called-upon God stayed equally distant.
The same word we love and hate, leaves in different directions, taking different paths.