The ode has no dictated rhyme or meter. It comes as pure life, ready to be given a form, a name, an art, velocity and vision, wings. Odes come ready for creation, like all of us. The maker of verse can count on this visitation of life. We listen and give thanks. From the commonwealth of experience we choose a subject that, with mischief, would join us irresistibly for a venture deep into the original dream of language: a dream that language is a source of light. Here you have in your hands a most promiscuous range of odes: about storms, cities, keys, Bactrian camels, laughter, rivers, children, jasmine ... Reader, they are for you. They are what we know and share. We know we can learn and love because we walk together upon an earth that is a homeland of lustrous promises.