The end of art is peace. - Seamus Heaney

Nobody,
Nobody can be sure they're always right.
The ones who are fullest of themselves that way
Are the emptiest vessels.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Call the miracle self-healing: The utter self-revealing double-take of feeling. If there's fire on the mountain Or lightning and storm And a god speaks from the sky <p> That means someone is hearing the outcry and the birth-cry of new life at its term.