On the beach, at dawn;
four small stones clearly
hugging each other.
How many kinds of love
might there be in the the world,
and how many formations might they make
And who am I ever
to imagine I could know
such a marvelous business?
~ Mary Oliver from "On the Beach" in SWAN: POEMS AND PROSE POEMS
The voice of God whispers in the heart So softly That the soul pauses, Making no noise, And strives for these melodies, Distant, sighing, like the faintest breath, And all the being is still to hear.
