See the movement in the poem - and make the connections for yourself!   Everything flows    upward and over        chalk-white walls  Â

    WHEN the sea is everywhere from horizon to horizon .. when the salt and blue fill a circle of horizons .. I swear again how I know the sea is

Intricate and untraceable weaving and interweaving, dark strand with light: designed, beyond all spiderly contrivance, to link, not to entrap: ela

  we are the face in the mirror and we are the mirror itself. Here, now, right now, we taste the eternal. Yes, we are pain and yes, we are the medic

 Like the water  of a deep stream, love is always too much. We did not make it. Though we drink till we burst we cannot have it all, or want it

  Midwinter spring is its own season... When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire, The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches, In

  Is Heaven a Place -- a Sky -- a Tree? Location's narrow way is for Ourselves -- Unto the Dead There's no Geography -- But State -- Endowal -- Focu

water If I were called in To construct a religion I should make use of water. Going to church Would entail a fording To dry, different clothes; M

stillness   Whatever you hoped, you will not find yourselves in the garden, among the growing plants. Your lives are not circular like theirs

If humans could be that intensely whole, undistracted, unhurried,  swift from sheer  unswerving impetus! If we could blossom out of ourselves,

  It may indeed be phantasy, when I  Essay to draw from all created things Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings ; And trace in le

Rain The monotone of the rain is beautiful, And the sudden rise and slow relapse Of the long multitudinous rain. The sun on the hills is beautiful,

towering of shadows of clouds   From the tawny light from the rainy nights from the imagination finding itself and more than itself alone and

self-blessing   The bud stands for all things, even for those things that don't flower, for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing; tho

brightness   love is a place & through this place of love move (with brightness of peace) all places   From e.e.cummings, love is a place.