So come to the pond, or the river of your imagination, or the harbor of your longing, and put your lips to the world. And live your life.

You must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life.

When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the brambles nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching my ripped arms, thinking of nothing, cramming the black honey of summer into my mouth; all day my body accepts what it is. In the dark creeks that run by there is this thick paw of my life darting among the black bells, the leaves; there is this happy tongue.

As a child, what captivated me was reading the poems myself and realizing that there was a world without material substance which was nevertheless as alive as any other.

Hello, sun in my face. Hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields...Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness.

Though I play at the edges of knowing, truly I know our part is not knowing, but looking, and touching, and loving

Don't we all die someday and someday comes all too soon? What will you do with your own wild, glorious chance at this thing we call life.