Time Is Never Wasted If You Remember

It's Been A Prevalent Notion. Fallen Sparks. Fragments Of Vessels Broken At The Creation. And Someday, Somehow, Before The End, A Gathering Back To Home. A Messenger From The Kingdom, Arriving At The Last Moment. But I Tell You There Is No Such Message, No Such Home -- Only The Millions Of Last Moments . . . Nothing More. Our History Is An Aggregate Of Last Moments.

Ills Are Many, Blessings Few, But Dreams Tonight Will Shelter You.

Everybody Gets Told To Write About What They Know. The Trouble With Many Of Us Is That At The Earlier Stages Of Life We Think We Know Everything- Or To Put It More Usefully, We Are Often Unaware Of The Scope And Structure Of Our Ignorance.

I Dream That I Have Found Us Both Again, With Spring So Many Strangers' Lives Away, And We, So Free, Out Walking By The Sea, With Someone Else's Paper Words To Say.... They Took Us At The Gates Of Green Return, Too Lost By Then To Stop, And Ask Them Why- Do Children Meet Again? Does Any Trace Remain, Along The Superhighways Of July?

But As With Maxwell's Demon, So Now. Either She Could Not Communicate, Or He Did Not Exist.