Nature is always hinting at us.
Poetry is a reaching out forward expression, an effort to find fulfillment
I think I know enough of hate to say that for destruction ice is also great and would suffice.
We can make a little order where we are, and then the big sweep of history on which we can have no effect doesn't overwhelm us. We do it with colors, with a garden, with the furnishings of a room, or with sounds and words. We make a little form, and we gain composure.
The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader.
The artist in me cries out for design.