Love is not about property, diamonds and gifts. It is about sharing your very self with the world around you.

Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan, So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.

As if you were on fire from within. The moon lives in the lining of your skin.

And our problems will crumble apart, the soul / blow through like a wind, and here where we live will all be clean again, with fresh bread on the table.

Give me silence, water, hope Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.

I love all things, not only the grand but the infinitely small: thimble, spurs, plates, flower vases.

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.