Burning The Small Dead Branches

A Reading Is A Kind Of Communion. The Poet Articulates The Semi-known For The Tribe.

O, Ah! The Awareness Of Emptiness Brings Forth A Heart Of Compassion!

Grandfather Space. The Mind Is His Wife

I Never Find Words Right Away. Poems For Me Always Begin With Images And Rhythms, Shapes, Feelings, Forms, Dances In The Back Of My Mind.

Walking Is The Great Adventure, The First Meditation, A Practice Of Heartiness And Soul Primary To Humankind. Walking Is The Exact Balance Beween Spirit And Humility.