maybe death isn't darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us--
Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, Stay awhile.
I don't ask for the sights in front of me to change, only the depth of my seeing.
I GO DOWN TO THE SHORE I go down to the shore in the morning and depending on the hour the waves are rolling in or moving out, and I say, oh, I am miserable, what shall— what should I do? And the sea says in its lovely voice: Excuse me, I have work to do.
I grew up in a sad, depressed place. I got out. Poetry saved my life.
Wherever I am, the world comes after me. It offers me its busyness. It does not believe that I do not want it. Now I understand why the old poets of China went so far and high into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.