If you don't fill your days with love, you are wasting your life.
The only limits are, as always, those of vision.
For me, prose walks, poetry dances.
You're closer to your glory leaping an abyss than re-upholstering a rut.
It was as important to live poetically as to write poems.
Everything is Song. Everything is Silence. Since it all turns out to be illusion, perfectly being what it is, having nothing to do with good or bad, you are free to die laughing.