Excerpt from Along the Way With Pen and Pencil
Cannot sing of written things, Mine is not knowledge conned from books How is it the bird Of the meadow Sings? What is the music we hear in brooks?
There is a gift that is given to man, Given to him who looks and hears. He must forth tell it as well as he can, Just as of Old did the ancient seers.
SO in small measure, whatever I find, Secret of nature unfolded to me. Treasure of happiness, visions of mind.
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