The self says, I am; The heart says, I am less; The spirit says, you are Nothing.
May my silences become more accurate.
(I measure time by how a body sways.)
Wake the happy words.
What's important? That which is dug out of books, or out of the guts?
I came where the river Ran over stones; My ears knew An early joy. And all the waters Of all the streams Sang in my veins That summer day.