We Keep Secrets From Ourselves That All

Before A Secret Is Told, One Can Often Feel The Weight Of It In The Atmosphere.

We Keep Secrets From Ourselves That All Along We Know.

This Earth Is My Sister; I Love Her Daily Grace, Her Silent Daring, And How Loved I Am. How We Admire This Strength In Each Other, All That We Have Lost, All That We Have Suffered, All That We Know: We Are Stunned By This Beauty, And I Do Not Forget: What She Is To Me, What I Am To Her.

What Always Seems Miraculous Is When Aesthetic Necessities Yield An Insight Which Otherwise I Would Have Missed.

Each Time I Write, Each Time The Authentic Words Break Through, I Am Changed. The Older Order That I Was Collapses And Dies. I Lose Control. I Do Not Know Exactly What Words Will Appear On The Page. I Follow Language. I Follow The Sound Of The Words, And I Am Surprised And Transformed By What I Record.