The wind
is a heartbeat
that knows the way.

Listen,
and listen,
and listen again.

...

In that place where new things
rise up like morning mist, 
I am singing. 

I am
a prayer 
finding its voice.

...

The fresh air
is always
"over there."

I will breathe it,
and I will be somehow different
and more myself.

...

These reasons
I plant like a garden,
will grow into everything I need,

as surely
as I hold them now,
these quiet, magnificent seeds. 

...

To grow
is to stretch
limbs
past where things are certain.

If I knew the road
it would just be a room
in my house.

...

I will keep going
until what I find

is more true
than what I leave behind.

...