I feel the terror of idleness,like a red thirst.Death isn't just an idea.

When death is about to happendoes the body grow heavier, or lighter?

…Maybe death isn’t darkness at all, but so much light wrapping itself around us — as soft as feathers — that we are instantly weary of looking, and looking, and shut our eyes, not without amazement, and let ourselves be carried, as through the translucence of mica to the river that is without the least dapple or shadow — that is nothing but light — scalding, aortal light — in which we are washed and washed out of our bones.“White Owl Flies Into and Out of the Field,” House of Light (1990)

When it over, I want to say:all my lifeI was a bride married to amazement.I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.When it's over, I don't want to wonderif I have made of my life something particular,and real.I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,or full of argument.I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.from "When the death comes

maybe death isn't darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us--