I See a Red Rose “I see a red rose” shows us three things – “I” – a simple fact of consciousness Or awareness; “See” – shows the sense Of our action. And, within that act Of seeing, we have The concurrence of perceptions (Color, shape, quantity, etc.) Considered as a single thing – “A Red Rose”. “I see a red rose” – You see, There’s nothing romantic about it.

There Were Two of Us This Morning There were two of us this morning And there are two of us this evening, And we go on because love is two, Two people, the two of us inseparably so. A doubling that is not a doubling, Not a double presentation of the same, But one as supplement to the other. Neither one nor the other, but both, We are Two, one along with the other. Love is Two and this is what Oneness really means.

Something Less Than Human I came, through sea waves, misty-brained, My love songs crumbling to shadows, And I was halved to something Less than human. How could I grow Into something more than what I had become? Impossible now, the diminishing returns Of what was given me at birth. Smaller than a baby now, more of a creature Belonging to the forests, of stumps And traps and blood, the day-moon Hanging over me like a sad reminder. I was lost, having become lost, and

Not the growing stem or the leaf blowing in the wind; not the opening bud or the emerging radicle; not the fourfold root yearning for water.

The Quality of a Quantum I am nothing and you are nothing. but the relation between us isn’t nothing. Infinitesimally small differences establish the continuity between our discrete bodies. Intensive or extensive? Unity thought as plurality or plurality as unity? I can’t decide. (Either way we take up space and time.) We are two thought as one and one thought as two. If a complete synthesis is beyond us, remember this: In God’s infinite understanding we know just a little, an

Leibniz’s Soul What is amazing is not that my corpse was contracted and compressed into the earth’s dark matter (while my grave went unmarked and unremarked for some fifty years) but that my soul, of magnitude so tiny it was nothing more than a vibrating point, escaped its prison and went its own way. No longer confined, the vibrating point was free to enter into compounds with unseen bodies of atomic size and together they let so much light pass through that they were barely

God's Entropy (short version)

Mast/Tree The piling up of words into units, struc- tures, towers, is what might be termed the phallic unity of lang- uage. It was Hulme who said words ought to ‘stand up’ so that a poem is like a tree when the leaves are cut off -- it ‘be- comes a mast’.