The Seas Are The Hearts Blood Of

It Is Only When We Are Aware Of The Earth And Of The Earth As Poetry That We Truly Live.

The Quality Of Life, Which In The Ardour Of Spring Was Personal And Sexual, Becomes Social In Midsummer.

Hold Your Hands Out Over The Earth As Over A Flame. To All Who Love Her, Who Open To Her The Doors Of Their Veins, She Gives Of Her Strength, Sustaining Them With Her Own Measureless Tremor Of Dark Life. Touch The Earth, Love The Earth, Honor The Earth, Her Plains, Her Valleys, Her Hills, And Her Seas; Rest Your Spirit In Her Solitary Places. For The Gifts Of Life Are The Earth's And They Are Given To All, And They Are The Songs Of Birds At Daybreak, Orion And The Bear, And Dawn Seen Over Ocean From The Beach.

Poor Body, Time And The Long Years Were The First Tailors To Teach You The Merciless Use Of Clothes. Though Some Scold Today Because You Are Too Much Seen, To My Mind, You Are Not Seen Fully Enough Or Often Enough When You Are Beautiful.

Into Every Empty Corner, Into All Forgotten Things And Nooks, Nature Struggles To Pour Life, Pouring Life Into The Dead, Life Into Life Itself.