Though An Angel Should Write, Still 'tis

I Have Plenty Of Machinery Around Me; What I Really Need Is A More Enchanting World In Which To Live And Work.

When We Relate To Our Bodies As Having Soul, We Attend To Their Beauty, Their Poetry And Their Expressiveness. Our Very Habit Of Treating The Body As A Machine, Whose Muscles Are Like Pulleys And Its Organs Engines, Forces Its Poetry Underground, So That We Experience The Body As An Instrument And See Its Poetics Only In Illness.

The Key To Seeing The World's Soul, And In The Process Wakening Our Own, Is To Get Over The Confusion By Which We Think That Fact Is Real And Imagination Is Illusion.

And The Heart That Is Soonest Awake To The Flowers Is Always The First To Be Touch'd By The Thorns.

This Wretched Brain Gave Way, And I Became A Wreck At Random Driven, Without One Glimpse Of Reason Or Heaven.