Someday, Somewhere - Anywhere, Unfailingly, You'll Find

A Book, A Book Full Of Human Touches, Of Shirts, A Book Without Loneliness, With Men And Tools, A Book Is Victory.

I Am A Book Of Snow, A Spacious Hand, An Open Meadow, A Circle That Waits, I Belong To The Earth And Its Winter.

What Can I Say Without Touching The Earth With My Hands?

You Came To My Life With What You Were Bringing, Made Of Light And Bread And Shadow I Expected You, And Like This I Need You, Like This I Love You, And To Those Who Want To Hear Tomorrow That Which I Will Not Tell Them, Let Them Read It Here, And Let Them Back Off Today Because It Is Early For These Arguments.

Do Tears Not Yet Spilled Wait In Small Lakes?