What The Poet Is Searching For Is

Xxix Traveler, There Is No Path. The Path Is Made By Walking. Traveller, The Path Is Your Tracks And Nothing More. Traveller, There Is No Path The Path Is Made By Walking. By Walking You Make A Path And Turning, You Look Back At A Way You Will Never Tread Again Traveller, There Is No Road Only Wakes In The Sea.

I Thought My Fire Was Out, And Stirred The Ashes…. I Burnt My Fingers.

Life Is The Path You Beat While You Walk It.

I. Don't Trace Out Your Profile-- Forget Your Side View-- All That Is Outer Stuff. Ii. Look For Your Other Half Who Walks Always Next To You And Tends To Be Who You Aren't.

Wherever Learning Breeds Specialists, The Sum Of Human Culture Is Enhanced Thereby. That Is The Illusion And Consolation Of Specialists.