There Was Neither Horizon, Cloud, Nor Sound;

So Still Were The Big Woods Where I Sat, Sound Might Not Yet Have Been Born.

What Do I Want To Express? The Subject Means Little. The Arrangement, The Design, Colour, Shape, Depth, Light, Space, Mood, Movement, Balance, Not One Or All Of These Fills The Bill. There Is Something Additional, A Breath That Draws Your Breath Into Its Breathing, A Heartbeat That Pounds On Yours, A Recognition Of The Oneness Of All Things.

The Foolish Square Calves Pretend To Be Frightened Of Our Train. Bluffers! Haven't They Seen It Every Day Since They Were Born? It's Just An Excuse To Shake The Joy Out Of Their Heels.

Oh, Spring! I Want To Go Out And Feel You And Get Inspiration. My Old Things Seem Dead. I Want Fresh Contacts, More Vital Searching.

Go Out There Into The Glory Of The Woods. See God In Every Particle Of Them Expressing Glory And Strength And Power, Tenderness And Protection. Know That They Are God Expressing God Made Manifest.