By Daily Dying, I Have Come To

I Always Felt Mean, Jogging Back Over The Logging Road,as If I Had Broken The Natural Order Of Things In That Swampland;disturbed Some Rhythm, Old And Of Vast Importance,by Pulling Off Flesh From The Living Planet;as If I Had Committed, Against The Whole Scheme Of Life, A Desecration.

I Came To Love, I Came Into My Own.

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.

Teach As An Old Fishing Guide Takes Out A Beginner.

What Falls Away Is Always. And Is Near.