The Dead Leave Us Starving

When A Man Dies, His Secrets Bond Like Crystals, Like Frost On A Window. His Last Breath Obscures The Glass.

I Wanted A Line In A Poem To Be The Hollow Ney Of The Dervish Orchestra Whose Plaintive Wail Is A Call To God. But All I Achieved Was Awkward Shrieking. Not Even The Pure Shriek Of A Reed In The Rain.

Love Makes You See A Place Differently, Just As You Hold Differently An Object That Belongs To Someone You Love. If You Know One Landscape Well, You Will Look At All Other Landscapes Differently. And If You Learn To Love One Place, Sometimes You Can Also Learn To Love Another.

Like Other Ghosts, She Whispers; Not For Me To Join Her, But So That, When I'm Close Enough, She Can Push Me Back Into The World.

It Is Not A Person’s Depth You Must Discover, But Their Ascent. Find Their Path From Depth To Ascent.