You howled. That is how I knew you. My neighbor, close, and far from eternity—spirit and souls. Our journey, our pace, quickened – and passed unnoticed, by you, I would guess.
A box of book left at the bottom of the steps, I was sure I found your fiction: your diction message from the Gods. Only a glimmer then, but I knew the future, past, and present, weaving into my life. I held firm to my creative path and muse so I could catch up.
We strive as poets to lift each other. Humanity and grace wraps her wings around in hints and quantum jumps, foreshadowing in flashes—nothing is trashed, all energy resuscitates. All energy is here, now.
A little dream -- only a whisper then, was an intellectual chord, nudging me, igniting the path that I must travel.
Today (June 3rd) is Allen Ginsberg's Birthday:
Brain Pickings blog link
"In December of 1969, Allen Ginsberg(June 3, 1926–April 5, 1997), one of the most beloved and influential poets of the twentieth century, recorded a strange and wonderful LP, setting William Blake’sSongs of Innocence "and of Experience to song."