The Figure A Poem Makes. It Begins

Butterflies...flowers That Fly And All But Sing.

I Am Not A Teacher. I Am An Awakener.

Nature Is Always Hinting At Us.

It Looked As If A Night Of Dark Intent Was Coming, And Not Only A Night, An Age. Someone Had Better Be Prepared For Rage.

Summoning Artists To Participate In The August Occasions Of The State Seems Something Artists Ought To Celebrate. Today Is For My Cause A Day Of Days.