I Support All People On Earth Who

Anyone Who Says, “here’s My Address, Write Me A Poem,” Deserves Something In Reply. So I’ll Tell You A Secret Instead: Poems Hide. In The Bottoms Of Our Shoes, They Are Sleeping. They Are The Shadows Drifting Across Our Ceilings The Moment Before We Wake Up. What We Have To Do Is Live In A Way That Lets Us Find Them.

I Have Always Loved The Gaps, The Spaces Between Things, As Much As The Things. I Love Staring, Pondering, Mulling, Puttering. I Love The Times When Someone Or Something Is Late-there's That Rich Possibility Of Noticing More, In The Meantimepoetry Calls Us To Pause. There Is So Much We Overlook, While The Abundance Around Us Continues To Shimmer, On Its Own.

I Do Think That All Of Us Think In Poems.

Let Me Peer Out At The World Through Your Lens. (maybe I'll Shudder, Or Gasp, Or Tilt My Head In A Question.) Let Me See How Your Blue Is My Turquoise And My Orange Is Your Gold. Suddenly Binary Stars, We Have Startling Gravity. Let's Compare Scintillation - Let's Share Starlight.

You Know, Those Of Us Who Leave Our Homes In The Morning And Expect To Find Them There When We Go Back - It's Hard For Us To Understand What The Experience Of A Refugee Might Be Like.