Into the day as by dream I swim to the music of nourished meaning.
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.
Long ago we conquered our passions looking at ourselves in the mirror of eternity.
Wherever I go, I run into myself.
We love the imperfect shapes in nature and in the works of art, look for an intentional error as a sign of the golden key and sincerity found in true mastery.