The Universe Of Poetry Is The Universe

My Lifetime Listens To Yours.

One Writes In Order To Feel.

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.

Always Our Wars Have Been Our Confessions Of Weakness

Let Us Not Fear The Hidden. Or Each Other.