There comes a time when only anger is love.
Breathe the sweetness that hovers in August.
What I heard was my whole self saying and singing what it knew: I can.
You can live for years next door to a big pine tree, honored to have so venerable a neighbor, even when it sheds needles all over your flowers or wakes you, dropping big cones onto your deck at still of night.
We call it "Nature"; only reluctantly admitting ourselves to be "Nature" too.
Affliction is more apt to suffocate the imagination than to stimulate it.