You Will Hear Thunder And

Today I Have So Much To Do: I Must Kill Memory Once And For All, I Must Turn My Soul To Stone, I Must Learn To Live Again. Unless ... Summer's Ardent Rustling Is Like A Festival Outside My Window.

Sweet To Me Was Not The Voice Of Man, But The Wind's Voice Was Understood By Me. The Burdocks And The Nettles Fed My Soul, But I Loved The Silver Willow Best Of All.

But Fear And The Muse In Turn Guard The Place Where The Banished Poet Has Gone And The Night That Comes With Quickened Pace Is Ignorant Of Dawn.

I Am In The Middle Of It: Chaos And Poetry; Poetry And Love And Again, Complete Chaos. Pain, Disorder, Occasional Clarity; And At The Bottom Of It All: Only Love; Poetry. Sheer Enchantment, Fear, Humiliation. It All Comes With Love

Who Will Grieve For This Woman? Does She Not Seem Too Insignificant For Our Concern? Yet In My Heart I Never Will Deny Her, Who Suffered Death Because She Chose To Turn.