A Mind Too Active Is No Mind

Too Much Reality Can Be A Dazzle, A Surfeit;too Close Immediacy An Exhaustion

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

I Long For The Imperishable Quiet At The Heart Of Form.

How Terrible The Need For God.

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