And now we step to the rhythm of miracles.
--from The Light, That Never Dies

What hell condemned, let heaven now heal.

Poetry and art nourish the soul of the world with the flavor-filled substances of beauty, wisdom and truth.

The birth of a true poet is neither an insignificant event nor an easy delivery. Complications generally begin long before the fated soul carries its dubious light into whatever womb has been kind enough to volunteer the intricate machinery of its blood and prayers and muscles for a gestation period much longer than nine months or even nine years.

What is this slow blue dream of living,
and this fevered death by dreaming?

History is a hermaphrodite with many distinguished lovers. We are neither mysteries nor strangers but the living breath of revelation made flesh by the unrestrained desires of a free and universal love. Universal me. Universal you.”
--from Past Present and Future are One