By Daily Dying, I Have Come To

O Lord, May I Never Want To Look Good. O Jesus, May I Always Read It All: Out Loud And The Very Way It Should Be. May I Never Look At The Other Findings Until I Have Come To My Own True Conclusions: May I Care For The Least Of The Young: And Become Aware Of The One Poem That Each May Have Written; May I Be Aware Of What Each Thing Is, Delighted With Form, And Wary Of The False Comparison; May I Never Use The Word "brilliant."

By Daily Dying, I Have Come To Be.

Should We Say The Self, Once Perceived, Becomes The Soul?

May My Silences Become More Accurate.

The Mind Enters Itself, And God The Mind, And One Is One, Free In The Tearing Wind.