The Stones Were Sharp, The

I Bleed My Bones, Their Marrow To Bestowupon That God Who Knows What I Would Know.

I Came Where The River Ran Over Stones; My Ears Knew An Early Joy. And All The Waters Of All The Streams Sang In My Veins That Summer Day.

Long Live The Weeds That Overwhelm My Narrow Vegetable Realm! The Bitter Rock, The Barren Soil That Force The Son Of Man To Toil; All Things Unholy, Marred By Curse, The Ugly Of The Universe.

I Learn By Going Where I Have To Go.

The Damage Of Teaching: The Constant Contact With The Undeveloped.