As you get older, you find that often the wheat, disentangling itself from the chaff, comes out to meet you. - Gwendolyn Brooks

I hold my honey and I store my bread
In little jars and cabinets of my will.
I label clearly, and each latch and lid
I bid, Be firm till I return from hell.

To be in love Is to touch with a lighter hand.
In yourself you stretch, you are well.

Book Power

Books feed and cure and
chortle and collide.

In all this willful world
of thud and thump and thunder
man’s relevance to books
continues to declare.

Books are meat and medicine
and flame and flight and flower,
steel, stitch, and cloud and clout,
and drumbeats in the air.