In spite of daydreams lost to years
where no one dries a lonesome tear
grows the daydream brought anew
in early morning's glistening dews.
While rising chorus from waking nests
chirp in prayers of thankfulness
and take to wings their freedoms flight
away from all that would make blight
the glorious bounty yet to find
in all that nurtures its own kind
and rests again at evenings call
where sun trades moon for rest of all.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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