What Always Seems Miraculous Is When Aesthetic

To Make Love Is To Become Like This Infant Again. We Grope With Our Mouths Toward The Body Of Another Being, Whom We Trust, Who Takes Us In Her Arms. We Rock Together With This Loved One. We Move Beyond Speech. Our Bodies Move Past All The Controls We Have Learned. We Cry Out In Ecstasy, In Feeling. We Are Back In A Natural World Before Culture Tried To Erase Our Experience Of Nature. In This World, To Touch Another Is To Express Love; There Is No Idea Apart From Feeling, And No Feeling Which Does Not Ring Through Our Bodies And Our Souls At Once.

Borrow A Child And Get On Welfare. Borrow A Child And Stay In The House All Day With The Child, Or Go To The Public Park With The Child, And Take The Child To The Welfare Office And Cry And Say Your Man Left You And Be Humble And Wear Your Dress And Your Smile, And Don't Talk Back.

Self-reflection Is A Desire Felt By The Body, As Well As The Soul. As Dancers, Healers, And Saints All Know, When You Turn Your Attention Toward Even The Simplest Physical Process - Breath, The Small Movements Of The Eyes, The Turning Of A Foot In Midair - What Might Have Seemed Dull Matter Suddenly Awakens.

Waging War Is Not A Primary Physical Need.

Before A Secret Is Told, One Can Often Feel The Weight Of It In The Atmosphere.