By Daily Dying, I Have Come To

Death Was Not. I Lived In A Simple Drowse:hands And Hair Moved Through A Dream Of Wakening Blossoms.rain Sweetened The Cave And The Dove Still Called;the Flowers Leaned On Themselves, The Flowers In Hollows;and Love, Love Sang Toward.

What Is Madness But Nobility Of Soul At Odds With Circumstance?

What's Important? That Which Is Dug Out Of Books, Or Out Of The Guts?

Time Marks Us While We Are Marking Time.

Wake The Happy Words.