Poetry, My Dear Friends, Is A Sacred

He Who Has Not Looked On Sorrow Will Never See Joy. [for Without Sorrow How Would You Know What Joy Is? Contrast Provides Peceptive Clarity]

Be Like The Flower, Turn Your Faces To The Sun.

My Soul Gave Me Good Counsel, Teaching Me To Love What The People Abhor And To Show Good Will Toward The One They Hate. It Showed Me That Love Is A Property Not Of The Lover But Of The Beloved. Before My Soul Taught Me, Love Was For Me A Delicate Thread Stretched Between Two Adjacent Pegs, But Now It Has Been Transformed Into A Halo; Its First Is Its Last, And Its Last Is Its First. It Encompasses Every Being, Slowly Expanding To Embrace All That Ever Will Be.

Work Is Love Made Visable.

In A Dream I Saw Jesus And My God Pan Sitting Together In The Heart Of The Forest. They Laughed At Each Other's Speech, With The Brook That Ran Near Them, And The Laughter Of Jesus Was The Merrier. And They Conversed Long.