The Soul Has Many Motions, Body One.

Let Others Probe The Mystery If They Can.time-harried Prisoners Of Shall And Will -the Right Thing Happens To The Happy Man.

O Lord, May I Never Want To Look Good. O Jesus, May I Always Read It All: Out Loud And The Very Way It Should Be. May I Never Look At The Other Findings Until I Have Come To My Own True Conclusions: May I Care For The Least Of The Young: And Become Aware Of The One Poem That Each May Have Written; May I Be Aware Of What Each Thing Is, Delighted With Form, And Wary Of The False Comparison; May I Never Use The Word "brilliant."

But When I Breath With The Birds, The Spirit Of Wrath Becomes The Spirit Of Blessings, And The Dead Begin From Their Dark To Sing In My Sleep.

I Always Felt Mean, Jogging Back Over The Logging Road,as If I Had Broken The Natural Order Of Things In That Swampland;disturbed Some Rhythm, Old And Of Vast Importance,by Pulling Off Flesh From The Living Planet;as If I Had Committed, Against The Whole Scheme Of Life, A Desecration.

In A Dark Time, The Eye Begins To See / I Meet My Shadow In The Deepening Shade...dark, Dark My Light, And Darker My Desire.