There Is A Grace Of Life Which

The Canadian Voice Is Still Too Rustic.

Is It Not The Play Of The Mind We Are After? Is It Not That That Shows A Mind Is There At All?

One Loves Only Form, And Form Only Comes Into Existence When The Thing Is Born.

We All Want What's Been Suddenly Disallowed.

The Flowers Are Ravined By Bees, The Fruit Blossoms Are Thrown To The Ground, The Wind The Rain Forces Everything.