Live In A Perpetual Great

To Follow The Drops Sliding From A Lifting Oar, Head Up, While The Rower Breathes, And The Small Boat Drifts Quietly Shoreward.

Light Takes The Tree; But Who Can Tell Us How? The Lowly Worm Climbs Up A Winding Stair; I Wake To Sleep, And Take My Waking Slow. Great Nature Has Another Thing To Do To You And Me, So Take The Lively Air, And, Lovely, Learn By Going Where To Go. This Shaking Keeps Me Steady. I Should Know. What Falls Away Is Always. And Is Near. I Wake To Sleep, And Take My Waking Slow. I Learn By Going Where I Have To Go.

I Came To Love, I Came Into My Own.

And Soon A Branch, Part Of A Hidden Scene,the Leafy Mind, That Long Was Tightly Furled,will Turn Its Private Substance Into Green,and Young Shoots Spread Upon Our Inner World.

I Can't Go On Flying Apart Just For Those Who Want The Benefit Of A Few Verbal Kicks. My God, Do You Know What Poems Like That Cost? They're Not Written Vicariously: They Come Out Of Actual Suffering, Real Madness.