I have a notion that if you are going to be spiritually curious, you better not get cluttered up with too many material things.

When will you have a little pity for every soft thing that walks through the world, yourself included.

Rhythm is one of the most powerful of pleasures, and when we feel a pleasurable rhythm we hope it will continue. When it does, it grows sweeter.

Poetry isn't a profession, it's a way of life. It's an empty basket; you put your life into it and make something out of that.

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.

And I do not want anymore to be useful, to be docile, to lead / children out of the fields into the text / of civility, to teach them that they are (they are not) better than the grass.

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.