I become a waterwheel, turning and tasting you, as long as water moves.

This is what love does and continues to do. It tastes like honey to adults and milk to children.

Limp along until your legs are spent, and you fall flat and your energy is drained. Then the grace of the Divine will lift you.

This outward spring and garden are a reflection of the inward garden.

Poetry can be dangerous, especially beautiful poetry, because it gives the illusion of having had the experience without actually going through it.

Words can fertilize space now and then; don't deny yourself becoming enriched.

Everything that you want, you are already that.