Whatever Peace I Know Rests In The

I Think That Passion If Really Intense Is Always Destructive If Not To The Two Involved, Always To Other People.

There Is No Doubt That Solitude Is A Challenge And To Maintain Balance Within It A Precarious Business. But I Must Not Forget That, For Me, Being With People Or Even With One Beloved Person For Any Length Of Time Without Solitude Is Even Worse. I Lose My Center. I Feel Dispersed, Scattered, In Pieces. I Must Have Time Alone In Which To Mull Over My Encounter, And To Extract Its Juice, Its Essence, To Understand What Has Really Happened To Me As A Consequence Of It.

Poems Like To Have A Destination For Their Flight. They Are Homing Pigeons.

When We Admit Our Vulnerability, We Include Others. If We Deny It, We Shut Them Out.

Growing Old Is, Of All Things We Experience, That Which Takes The Most Courage, And At A Time When We Have The Least Resources, Especially With Which To Meet Frustration.