Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of read more

Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of two nightingales, the sweet pea that has run wild, Creation's tears in shoulder blades.

I'm not an environmentalist. I'm an Earth warrior.

I'm not an environmentalist. I'm an Earth warrior.

As you sit on the hillside, or lie prone under the trees of the forest, or sprawl wet-legged by a read more

As you sit on the hillside, or lie prone under the trees of the forest, or sprawl wet-legged by a mountain stream, the great door, that does not look like a door, opens.

Sharks have been swimming the oceans unchallenged for thousands of years; chances are, the species that roams corporate waters will read more

Sharks have been swimming the oceans unchallenged for thousands of years; chances are, the species that roams corporate waters will prove just as hardy.

Rain! whose soft architectural hands have power to cut stones, and chisel to shapes of grandeur the very mountains.

Rain! whose soft architectural hands have power to cut stones, and chisel to shapes of grandeur the very mountains.

Don't pray when it rains if you don't pray when the sun shines.

Don't pray when it rains if you don't pray when the sun shines.

Will urban sprawl spread so far that most people lose all touch with nature? Will the day come when the read more

Will urban sprawl spread so far that most people lose all touch with nature? Will the day come when the only bird a typical American child ever sees is a canary in a pet shop window? When the only wild animal he knows is a rat - glimpsed on a night drive through some city slum? When the only tree he touches is the cleverly fabricated plastic evergreen that shades his gifts on Christmas morning?

Lightning is the shorthand of a storm, and tells of chaos.

Lightning is the shorthand of a storm, and tells of chaos.

When a man wantonly destroys one of the works of man we call him a vandal. When he destroys one read more

When a man wantonly destroys one of the works of man we call him a vandal. When he destroys one of the works of God we call him a sportsman.