I Offer You What I Have My

I Also Think That Life Itself Is Both Indifferent To Us And The Source Of All Of Our Joys And Everything That We Love. And It's Necessary To Accept The One In Order To Love The Other.

After An Age Of Leaves And Feathers Someone Dead Thought Of The Mountain As Money And Cut The Trees That Were Here And The Wind And The Rain At Night. It Is Hard To Say It.

So This Is What I Am Pondering His Eyes That Could Not Conceive That I Was A Creature To Run From I Who Have Always Believed Too Much In Words

This Is What I Have Heard At Last The Wind In December Lashing The Old Trees With Rain Unseen Rain Racing Along The Tiles Under The Moon Wind Rising And Falling Wind With Many Clouds Trees In The Night Wind.

We Are The Echo Of The Future.