The Self Says, I Am;

Be Sure That Whatever You Are Is You.

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

O Lord, May I Never Want To Look Good. O Jesus, May I Always Read It All: Out Loud And The Very Way It Should Be. May I Never Look At The Other Findings Until I Have Come To My Own True Conclusions: May I Care For The Least Of The Young: And Become Aware Of The One Poem That Each May Have Written; May I Be Aware Of What Each Thing Is, Delighted With Form, And Wary Of The False Comparison; May I Never Use The Word "brilliant."

The Light Comes Brighter From The East; The Cawof Restive Crows Is Sharper On The Ear.

The Body And The Soul Know How To Play In That Dark World Where Gods Have Lost Their Way.