Always Our Wars Have Been Our Confessions

However Confused The Scene Of Our Life Appears, However Torn We May Be Who Now Do Face That Scene, It Can Be Faced, And We Can Go On To Be Whole.

As We Live Our Truths, We Will Communicate Across All Barriers, Speaking For The Sources Of Peace. Peace That Is Not Lack Of War, But Fierce And Positive.

I Hear The Singing Of The Lives Of Women. They Clear Mystery, The Offering, And Pride.

The Heavy Sensual Shoulders, The Thighs, The Blood-born Flesh And Earth Turning Into Color, Rocks Into Their Crystals, Water To Sound, Fire To Form: Life Flickers Uncounted Into The Supple Arms Of Love.

Dogma And Shrinking From The External World Are At One Limit Of The Range Of Belief. At The Other Are Science And Poetry And, Indeed, Reality.