So I, with eager voice and news-flushed face, cry to those caught in comas, stupors, sleeping: come, everything is running flying, leaping, hurtling through time! And we are in this race.
– Jessica Powers
There will be something anguish or elation that is peculiar to this day alone. I rise from sleep and say: hail to the morning! come down to me, my beautiful unknown.
– Jessica Powers
Time's cupped hands hold/No place so lenient, so calm as this. The moment after suffering, it is like/A sunlit clearing after densest wood. Bright by antithesis./One sits upon a stump to get one's bearing/And to admire such evidence of day.