SEEDS FOR A POEM

The facts of death, disease, and decay are woven into the fabric of our days, just as sunshine, joy, and snapdragons thread their way alongside them. Pain and ecstasy braid themselves together in the tapestry you wrap around yourself when it rains. So, anything I make you think about is a gift to you. Open it carefully: it can burn, burrow into your soul, burst into bloom. It is marked "FRAGILE." Remember: you do not have to open it.