"I love the dark hours of my being.
My mind deepens into them.
There I can find, as in old letters,the days of my life, already lived,and held like a legend, and understood.
Then the knowing comes: I can open to another life that's wide and timeless.
So I am sometimes like a tree rustling over a gravesite and making real the dream of the one its living roots embrace:
a dream once lost among sorrows and songs."
--r.m.r.
