Every Time I Deny Myself I Commit

We Are The Bird's Eggs. Bird's Eggs, Flowers, Butterflies, Rabbits, Cows, Sheep, We Are Caterpillars; We Are Leaves Of Ivy And Springs Of Wildflower. We Are Women. We Rise From The Wave. We Are Gazelle And Doe, Elephant And Whale, Lilies And Roses And Peach, We Are Air, We Are Flame, We Are Oyster And Pearl, We Are Girls. We Are Woman And Nature. And He Says He Cannot Hear Us Speak. But We Hear.

How Many Small Decisions Accumulate To Form A Habit? What A Multitude Of Decisions, Made By Others, In Other Times, Must Shape Our Lives Now.

Society, Like Nature, Is One Body, Really.

To Make Love Is To Become Like This Infant Again. We Grope With Our Mouths Toward The Body Of Another Being, Whom We Trust, Who Takes Us In Her Arms. We Rock Together With This Loved One. We Move Beyond Speech. Our Bodies Move Past All The Controls We Have Learned. We Cry Out In Ecstasy, In Feeling. We Are Back In A Natural World Before Culture Tried To Erase Our Experience Of Nature. In This World, To Touch Another Is To Express Love; There Is No Idea Apart From Feeling, And No Feeling Which Does Not Ring Through Our Bodies And Our Souls At Once.

The Hard Surface Of The Stone Is Impervious To Nothing In The End. The Heat Of The Sun Leaves Evidence Of Daylight. Each Drop Of Rain Changes The Form; Even The Wind And The Air Itself, Invisible To Our Eyes, Etches Its Presence. … All History Is Taken In By Stones.