I inhale great draught of space...the east and west are mine...and the north and south are mine...I am grandeur than I thought...I did not know i held so much goodness.

I will be your poet$$$ I will be more to you than to any of the rest.

In the confusion we stay with each other$$$ happy to be together$$$ speaking without uttering a single word.

I hear and behold God in every object$$$ yet understand God not in the least$$$ <br>Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.

And I or you pocketless of a dime$$$ may purchase the pick of the earth.

Henceforth I ask not good fortune. I myself am good fortune.

This is the city$$$ and I am one of the citizens;<br>Whatever interests the rest interests me.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love$$$<br>If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.

I Think it is lost.....but nothing is ever lost nor can be lost. The body sluggish$$$ aged$$$ cold$$$ the ember left from earlier fires shall duly flame again.

I act as the tongue of you$$$... tied in your mouth . . . . in mine it begins to be loosened.