The Mind Enters Itself, And God The

Be Sure That Whatever You Are Is You.

The Mind Enters Itself, And God The Mind, And One Is One, Free In The Tearing Wind.

I Learned Not To Fear Infinity, The Far Field, The Windy Cliffs Of Forever, The Dying Of Time In The White Light Of Tomorrow, The Wheel Turning Away From Itself, The Sprawl Of The Wave, The On-coming Water.

A Lively Understandable Spirit Once Entertained You. It Will Come Again. Be Still. Wait.

I Can't Go On Flying Apart Just For Those Who Want The Benefit Of A Few Verbal Kicks. My God, Do You Know What Poems Like That Cost? They're Not Written Vicariously: They Come Out Of Actual Suffering, Real Madness.