The First Step In The Journey Is

There Are Two Versions To Every Poem – The Crying Version And The Straight Version

The Bud Stands For All Things, Even For Those Things That Don't Flower

This One Whom Habit Of Memory Propels To The Ground Of His Making, Sleeper Only The Mortal Sounds Can Sing Awake, This Blessing Love Gives Again Into Our Arms.

Never Mind. The Self Is The Least Of It. Let Our Scars Fall In Love.

It Is Necessary To Reteach A Thing Its Loveliness, To Put A Hand On Its Brow Of The Flower And Retell It In Words And In Touch It Is Lovely Until It Flowers Again From Within, Of Self-blessing.