The Truth Of A Poem Is Its

I Hear The Singing Of The Lives Of Women. They Clear Mystery, The Offering, And Pride.

We Sit Here, Very Different Each From The Other, Until The Passion Arrives To Give Us Our Equality, To Make Us Part Of The Play, To Make The Play Part Of Us.

The Fear Of Poetry Is An Indication That We Are Cut Off From Our Own Reality.

Whatever Can Happen To Anyone Can Happen To Me.

In Time Of Crisis, We Summon Up Our Strength. Then, If We Are Lucky, We Are Able To Call Every Resource, Every Forgotten Image That Can Leap To Our Quickening, Every Memory That Can Make Us Know Our Power. And This Luck Is More Than It Seems To Be: It Depends On The Long Preparation Of The Self To Be Used.