Look, I Want To Love This World

In My Own Work, I Usually Revise Through Forty Or Fifty Drafts Of A Poem Before I Begin To Feel Content With It.

Of Course! The Path To Heaven Doesn't Lie Down In Flat Miles. It's In The Imagination With Which You Perceive This World, And The Gestures With Which You Honor It.

The Sea Isn't A Place But A Fact, And A Mystery.

Around Me The Trees Stir In Their Leaves And Call Out, Stay Awhile.

Every Day I Walk Out Into The World / To Be Dazzled, Then To Be Reflective.