White Flowers

“but instead I fell asleep, as if in a vast and sloping room filled with those white flowers that open all summer, sticky and untidy, in the warm fields. when I woke the morning light was just slipping in front of the stars, and I was covered with blossoms.” —from “White Flowers” by Mary Oliver

Light

“Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.” —Mary Shelley