In Your Beauty, How To Make Poems.

How Can You Ever Hope To Know The Beloved Without Becoming In Every Cell The Lover?

Yesterday Was Glory And Joy. Today, A Blackened Burn Everywhere. On The Record Of My Life, These Two Days Will Be Put Down As One

Set Your Sights On A Place Higher Than Your Eyes Can See.

What Is Planted In Each Person's Soul Will Sprout.

In Silence There Is Eloquence. Stop Weaving And See How The Pattern Improves.