Only Silence Perfects Silence.

The Walk Liberating, I Was Released From Forms, From The Perpendiculars, Straight Lines, Blocks, Boxes, Binds Of Thought Into The Hues, Shadings, Rises, Flowing Bends And Blends Of Sight.

For Though We Often Need To Be Restored To The Small, Concrete, Limited, And Certain, We As Often Need To Be Reminded Of The Large, Vague, Unlimited, Unknown

Definition, Rationality, And Structure Are Ways Of Seeing, But They Become Prisons When They Blank Out Other Ways Of Seeing.

Even If You Walk Exactly The Same Route Each Time - As With A Sonnet - The Events Along The Route Cannot Be Imagined To Be The Same From Day To Day, As The Poet's Health, Sight, His Anticipations, Moods, Fears, Thoughts Cannot Be The Same.

Poetry Leads Us To The Unstructured Sources Of Our Beings, To The Unknown, And Returns Us To Our Rational, Structured Selves Refreshed. Having Once Experienced The Mystery, Plenitude, Contradiction, And Composure Of A Work Of Art, We Afterward Have A Built-in Resistance To The Slogans And Propaganda Of Oversimplification That Have Often Contributed To The Destruction Of Human Life. Poetry Is A Verbal Means To A Nonverbal Source. It Is A Motion To No-motion, To The Still Point Of Contemplation And Deep Realization.