You Darkness, That I Come From, I

...a Carefree Letting Go Of Oneself, Not A Caution, But A Wise Blindness.

I Think Of You Often, Dear, And With Such Concentrated Wishes That It Really Must Help You In Some Way.

The Only Journey Is The One Within.

A Kind Of Memory That Tells Us That What We're Now Striving For Was Once Nearer And Truer And Attached To Us With Infinite Tenderness. Here All Is Distance, There It Was Breath. After The First Home The Second One Seems Draughty And Strangely Sexed.

God Speaks To Each Of Us As He Makes Us, Then Walks With Us Silently Out Of The Night.