I Am Not The One Who Loves

Any Of The Decisions That I Made, If One Could Actually Locate A Shape Or Form, Were All Within A Wall, The Landscape Of Music.

It's Like A Bear Stumbling Into A Beehive Or A Honey Cache: I'm Stumbling Right Into It And Getting Stuck, And It's Delicious And It's Horrible And I'm In It And It's Not Very Graceful And It's Very Awkward And It's Very Painful And Yet There's Something Inevitable About It.

In Streams Of Light I Clearly Saw The Dust You Seldom See, Out Of Which The Nameless Makes A Name For One Like Me... All Busy In The Sunlight The Flecks Did Float And Dance, And I Was Tumbled Up With Them In Formless Circumstance.

Gift You Tell Me That Silence Is Nearer To Peace Than Poems But If For My Gift I Brought You Silence (for I Know Silence) You Would Say This Is Not Silence This Is Another Poem And You Would Hand It Back To Me

You Who Wish To Conquer Pain, You Must Learn What Makes One Kind.