Love is Not AllLove is not all it is not meat nor drinkNor slumber nor a roof against the rain Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink And rise and sink and rise and sink again Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath Nor clean the blood nor set the fractured bone Yet many a man is making friends with death Even as I speak for lack of love alone. It well may be that in a difficult hour Pinned down by pain and moaning for release Or nagged by want past resolutions power I might be driven to sell your love for peace Or trade the memory of this night for food. It well may be. I do not think I would.

Love After LoveThe time will come when with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door in your own mirror and each will smile at the others welcome and say sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self.Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself to the stranger who has loved you all your life whom you ignored for another who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf the photographs the desperate notes peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.

He was my North my South my East and WestMy working week and my Sunday restMy noon my midnight my talk my songI thought that love would last forever I was wrong.

Our heart wanders lost in the dark woods. Our dream wrestles in the castle of doubt. But theres music in us. Hope is pushed down but the angel flies up again taking us with her.

Dreams have always expanded our understanding of reality by challenging our boundaries of the real the possible.