I am in here.
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning If I lacked anything. “A guest,” I answered, “worthy to be here”: Love said, “You shall be he.” “I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, … Continue reading Love (III)
You don’t love the world. If you loved the world you’d have images in your poems. John loves the world. He has a motto: judge not lest ye be judged. Don’t argue this point on the theory it isn’t possible to love what one refuses to know: to refuse speech is not to suppress perception. … Continue reading Rainy Morning
Spring calls me to sleep so that new dreams may be planted in my heart
reading the note left on the door for us – the firefly and me
white pebble 