Light Is Time Thinking About

Humankind Is Never What He Is But The Self He Seeks.

Beyond Myself, Somewhere, I Wait For My Arrival.

To Read A Poem Is To Hear It With Our Eyes; To Hear It Is To See It With Our Ears.

Wisdom Lies Neither In Fixity Nor In Change, But In The Dialectic Between The Two.

I Sat At The Foot Of A Huge Tree, A Statue Of The Night, And Tried To Make An Inventory Of All I Had Seen, Heard, Smelled, And Felt: Dizziness, Horror, Stupor, Astonishment, Joy, Enthusiasm, Nausea, Inescapable Attraction. What Had Attracted Me? It Was Difficult To Say: Human Kind Cannot Bear Much Reality.