Not all things are blest, but the seeds of all things are blest.
I speak to you. You speak to me. Is that fragile?
If there were no poetry on any day in the world, poetry would be invented that day. For there would be an intolerable hunger.
The fear of poetry is an indication that we are cut off from our own reality.
A world is to be fought for, sung, and built: Love must imagine the world.
My lifetime listens to yours.