This is the first, wildest, and wisest thing I know, that the soul exists, and that it is built entirely out of attention.

You are young. So you know everything. You leap into the boat and begin rowing. But, listen to me. Without fanfare, without embarrassment, without doubt,I talk directly to your soul. Listen to me.

Joy is not made to be a crumb. (Don't Hesitate)

LITTLE DOGS RHAPSODY IN THE NIGHT (PERCY THREE) He puts his cheek against mine and makes small, expressive sounds. And when I'm awake, or awake enough he turns upside down, his four paws in the air and his eyes dark and fervent. Tell me you love me, he says. Tell me again. Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Over and over he gets to ask it. I get to tell.

Poetry is a life-cherishing force.

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

When it's over I don't want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real.