This fire that we call Loving is too strong for human minds. But just right for human souls.
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A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.
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This world’s anguish is no different from the love we insist on holding back.
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And now we step to the rhythm of miracles.--from The Light, That Never Dies
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The words ‘I Love You’ kill, and resurrect millions, in less than a second.
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History is a hermaphrodite with many distinguished lovers. We are neither mysteries nor strangers but the living breath of revelation made flesh by th...
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Beneath the armor of skin/and/bone/and/mindmost of our colors are amazingly the same.
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Time (again, Time) like the soul, wears many faces, many bodies and climates and attitudes. The past is one face, the present a second and the future ...
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Everywhere we shine death and life burn into something new…
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How many fears came between us?Earthquakes, diseases, wars where hellrained smoldering pus from skies made of winged death.Horror tore this world asun...
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Dreams dress us carefully in the colors of power and faith.
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In this quiet place on a quiet streetwhere no one ever finds usgently, lovingly, freedom gives back our pain.--from poem In a Quiet Place on a Quiet S...
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Just above our terror, the stars painted this storyin perfect silver calligraphy. And our souls, too oftenabused by ignorance, covered our eyes with m...
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Many Americans first fell in love with the poetry of the thirteenth century teacher and spiritual leader Jelalludin Rumi during the early 1990s when t...
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The job facing American voters… in the days and years to come is to determine which hearts, minds and souls command those qualities best suited to uni...
