The hands are churches that worship the world.

Sometimes there’s no one to listen to what you really might like to say at a certain moment. The paper always listens.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.

Teaching and writing are separate, but serve/feed one another in so many ways. Writing travels the road inward, teaching, the road out - helping OTHERS move inward - it is an honor to be with others in the spirit of writing and encouragement.

Where we live in the world is never one place. Our hearts, those dogged mirrors, keep flashing us moons before we are ready for them.

I love the solitude of reading. I love the deep dive into someone else's story, the delicious ache of a last page.

Peter Conners stunning prose poems are packed with keen sensitivity, dreaminess, and wit. I love his time travels, the vibrant layering of image and detail. Try taking walks as you are reading this book- the dazzle of landscapes, inner and outer, feel replenished and rich. This is language and vision I want to come home to again and again.