Consciousness Even In My Sleep Changes Primary

Poetry Is A Dividend From What You Know And What You Are.

Consolation Calm Down. Both Your Sins And Your Good Deeds Will Be Lost In Oblivion.

What Is This Enigmatic Impulse That Does Not Allow One To Settle Down In The Achieved, The Finished? I Think It Is A Quest For Reality.

Forget The Suffering You Caused Others. Forget The Suffering Others Caused You. The Waters Run And Run, Springs Sparkle And Are Done, You Walk The Earth You Are Forgetting.

Leaves Glowing In The Sun, Zealous Hum Of Bumblebees, From Afar, From Somewhere Beyond The River, Echoes Of Lingering Voices And The Unhurried Sounds Of A Hammer Gave Joy Not Only To Me. Before The Five Senses Were Opened, And Earlier Than Any Beginning They Waited, Ready, For All Those Who Would Call Themselves Mortals, So That They Might Praise, As I Do, Life, That Is, Happiness.