There is a place where words are born of silence.

The body's a mirror of heaven: Its energies make angels jealous. Our purity astounds seraphim. Devils shiver at our nerve.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don't go back to sleep.

For sixty years I have been forgetful every minute, but not for a second has this flowing toward me stopped or slowed.

I want your sun to reach my raindrops, so your heat can raise my soul upward like a cloud.

Body of earth, don't talk of earth Tell the story of pure mirrors The Creator has given you this splendor-- Why talk of anything else?

You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you.