The Tides Are In Our Veins.

Justice And Mercy/ Are Human Dreams, They Do Not Concern The Birds Nor The Fish Nor Eternal God.

Nature Knows That People Are A Tide That Swells And In Time Will Ebb, And All Their Works Dissolve ... As For Us: We Must Uncenter Our Minds From Ourselves. We Must Unhumanize Our Views A Little And Become Confident As The Rock And Ocean That We Are Made From.

We Might Remember ... Not To Fear Death; It Is The Only Way To Be Cleansed.

Death's A Fierce Meadowlark: But To Die Having Made / Something More Equal To The Centuries / Than Muscle And Bone, Is Mostly To Shed Weakness.

Poetry Is Not A Civilizer, Rather The Reverse, For Great Poetry Appeals To The Most Primitive Instincts.