We have the capacity to receive messages from the stars and the songs of the night winds.

We have the capacity to receive messages from the stars and the songs of the night winds.

Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of read more

Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of two nightingales, the sweet pea that has run wild, Creation's tears in shoulder blades.

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. read more

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.

I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn read more

I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn garner to the end of time.
I trust in God--the right shall be the right
And other than the wrong, while he endures;
I trust in my own soul, that can perceive
The outward and the inward, Nature's good
And God's.

No sight is more provocative of awe than is the night sky.

No sight is more provocative of awe than is the night sky.

Nature has no mercy at all. Nature says, "I'm going to snow. If you have on a bikini and no read more

Nature has no mercy at all. Nature says, "I'm going to snow. If you have on a bikini and no snowshoes, that's tough. I am going to snow anyway."

The only thing that ever sat its way to success was a hen.

The only thing that ever sat its way to success was a hen.

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the read more

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.