I am working out the vocabulary of my silence.
The sources of poetry are in the spirit seeking completeness.
I speak to you. You speak to me. Is that fragile?
The journey is my home.
I remember mother saying : Inventors are like poets, a trashy lot
Nourish beginnings, let us nourish beginnings. Not all things are blest, but the seeds of all things are blest. The blessing is in the seed.