Love Makes You See A Place Differently,

Reading A Poem In Translation Is Like Kissing A Woman Through A Veil.

The Spirit In The Body Is Like Wine In A Glass; When It Spills, It Seeps Into Air And Earth And Light….it’s A Mistake To Think It’s The Small Things We Control And Not The Large, It’s The Other Way Around! We Can’t Stop The Small Accident, The Tiny Detail That Conspires Into Fate: The Extra Moment You Run Back For Something Forgotten, A Moment That Saves You From An Accident – Or Causes One. But We Can Assert The Largest Order, The Large Human Values Daily, The Only Order Large Enough To See.

When A Man Dies, His Secrets Bond Like Crystals, Like Frost On A Window. His Last Breath Obscures The Glass.

The Shadow Past Is Shaped By Everything That Never Happened. Invisible, It Melts The Present Like Rain Through Karst.

I Wanted A Line In A Poem To Be The Hollow Ney Of The Dervish Orchestra Whose Plaintive Wail Is A Call To God. But All I Achieved Was Awkward Shrieking. Not Even The Pure Shriek Of A Reed In The Rain.