What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open.

No one wants to read poetry. You have to make it impossible for them to put the poem down--impossible for them to stop reading it, word after word. You have to keep them from closing the book.

As we live our truths, we will communicate across all barriers, speaking for the sources of peace. Peace that is not lack of war, but fierce and positive.

Flight is intolerable contradiction.

Exchange is creation.

The universe of poetry is the universe of emotional truth. Our material is in the way we feel and the way we remember.

I hear the singing of the lives of women. They clear mystery, the offering, and pride.