I want a trouble-maker for a lover, Blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, Who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, Who burns like fire on the rushing sea.

Trade your cleverness for bewilderment.

Inside any deep asking is the answering.

Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge of driftwood along the beach, wanting! They derive from a slow and powerful root that we can’t see. Stop the words now. Open the window in the center of your chest, and let the spirits fly in and out.

Ground yourself, strip yourself down, To blind loving Silence

Because of your love I have broken with my past

For without you, I swear, the town Has become like a prison to me. Distraction and the mountain And the desert, all I desire.