Hymn |
||
I make note of this bright hour, passed in the quiet, alone. No song is its equal, no poem, only the joy a child knows. I mark my hunger and thirst, my tired muscles, fingers, and bones. I set down my ignorance; beside it, I place all I understand. Let the two know one another. Let them smile and become friends. January 25, 2006 Previous Entry Next Entry Return to Songs and Letters About the Author |
Main Page Author�s Note Background Notebook A Listening Thing Among the Living No Time to Cut My Hair One Hand Clapping Songs and Letters Collected Poems Early Short Stories Armenian Translations Interviews News and Reviews Highly Recommended Let�s Eat Favorite Books & Authors Useless Information Conversation E-mail & Parting Thoughts Flippantly Answered Questions | |
|