I Note That The Africa Loves To

Gods Always Behave Like The People Who Make Them.

So Janie Waited A Bloom Time, And A Green Time And An Orange Time.

She Had An Inside And An Outside Now And Suddenly She Knew How Not To Mix Them.

I Have Been In Sorrow's Kitchen And Licked Out All The Pots. Then I Have Stood On The Peaky Mountain Wrapped In Rainbows, With A Harp And Sword In My Hands.

Perhaps Love Is A Compelling Necessity Imposed On Man By God That Has Something To Do With Suffering