Rhythm to me is essentially what Hopkins called the taste of self. I taste myself as rhythm.
I associate the garden with the whole experience of being alive, and so, there is nothing in the range of human experience that is separate from what the garden can signify in its eagerness and its insistence, and in its driving energy to live -- to grow, to bear fruit.
The universe is a continuous web. Touch it at any point and the whole web quivers.
I dance/for the joy of surviving, at the edge of the road.
In a murderous time/the heart breaks and breaks/and lives by breaking.
A poet needs to keep his wilderness alive inside him.