Only Love Can Be Divided Endlessly And

It Is Only In Solitude That I Ever Find My Own Core.

For Relationships, Too, Must Be Like Islands. One Must Accept Them For What They Are Here And Now, Within Their Limits - Islands Surrounded And Interrupted By The Sea, Continuously Visited And Abandoned By The Tides. One Must Accept The Serenity Of The Winged Life, Of Ebb And Flow, Of Intermittency.

Eternally, Woman Spills Herself Away In Driblets To The Thirsty, Seldom Being Allowed The Time, The Quiet, The Peace, To Let The Pitcher Fill Up To The Brim.

Grief Can't Be Shared. Everyone Carries It Alone. His Own Burden In His Own Way.

After All, I Don't See Why I Am Always Asking For Private, Individual, Selfish Miracles When Every Year There Are Miracles Like White Dogwood.