There Is Only One Child In The

The People Know What The Land Knows.

Poetry Is A Sequence Of Dots And Dashes, Spelling Depths, Crypts, Cross-lights, And Moon Wisps.

Poetry Is An Echo, Asking A Shadow To Dance.

Such A Big Miracle In Such A Tiny Baby. Big Things Often Have Small Beginnings A Baby Is God's Opinion That Life Should Go On.

The Sea Speaks A Language Polite People Never Repeat. It Is A Colossal Scavenger Slang And Has No Respect.