I Have With Me All That I

Sitting Over Words Very Late I Have Heard A Kind Of Whispered Sighing Not Far Like A Night Wind In Pines Or Like The Sea In The Dark The Echo Of Everything That Has Ever Been Spoken Still Spinning Its One Syllable Between The Earth And Silence.

What I Really Believe Is The Only Hopeful Relation Between Our Life And The Whole Of Life Is One Of Reverence And Respect And Of Feeling At One With It. The Other Attitude Which Is The One Our Society Is Based On Is Devastating And It Is Killing The Earth And It Is Killing Us Too.

I Have With Me All That I Do Not Knowi Have Lost None Of It.

Send Me Out Into Another Life Lord Because This One Is Growing Faint I Do Not Think It Goes All The Way

Obviously A Garden Is Not The Wilderness But An Assembly Of Shapes, Most Of Them Living, That Owes Some Share Of Its Composition, It’s Appearance, To Human Design And Effort, Human Conventions And Convenience, And The Human Pursuit Of That Elusive, Indefinable Harmony That We Call Beauty. It Has A Life Of Its Own, An Intricate, Willful, Secret Life, As Any Gardener Knows. It Is Only The Humans In It Who Think Of It As A Garden. But A Garden Is A Relationship, Which Is One Of The Countless Reasons Why It Is Never Finished.