Fear Was My Father, Father

Should We Say The Self, Once Perceived, Becomes The Soul?

The Fields Stretch Out In Long Unbroken Rows. We Walk Aware Of What Is Far And Close. Here Distance Is Familiar As A Friend. The Feud We Kept With Space Comes To An End.

I Teach My Sighs To Lengthen Into Songs.

I Always Felt Mean, Jogging Back Over The Logging Road,as If I Had Broken The Natural Order Of Things In That Swampland;disturbed Some Rhythm, Old And Of Vast Importance,by Pulling Off Flesh From The Living Planet;as If I Had Committed, Against The Whole Scheme Of Life, A Desecration.

Let Others Probe The Mystery If They Can.time-harried Prisoners Of Shall And Will -the Right Thing Happens To The Happy Man.