The eyes of my eyes are opened.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe eyes of my eyes are opened.
E. E. CUMMINGSNobody loses all the time.
E. E. CUMMINGSExisting’s tricky:but to live’s a gift.
E. E. CUMMINGSYours is the light by which my spirit’s born: – you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
E. E. CUMMINGSOnly by you my heart always moves.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe artist is not a man who describes, but a man who feels.
E. E. CUMMINGSYour head is a living forest full of songbirds.
E. E. CUMMINGSSomeone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.
E. E. CUMMINGSTake the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
E. E. CUMMINGSAs small as a world as large as alone.
E. E. CUMMINGSListen; there’s a hell of a good universe next door: let’s go.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses.
E. E. CUMMINGSI thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.
E. E. CUMMINGSThe eyes of my eyes are opened.
E. E. CUMMINGSBecause you aren’t afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
E. E. CUMMINGSI fear no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows.
E. E. CUMMINGS