On March 22, 1983 I was arrested attempting to be on the tracks in front of the White Train carrying nuclear weapons to be placed on the Trident submarine. One day as I opened my mail while at Ground Zero For Nonviolent Action I received what would be for me a life-long treasure. Not just Dan's poem written for me but a long white scroll on which the poem was written with a large red heart and the end and just the word Daniel. That scroll is framed in a long narrow picture frame that hangs on my office wall. It is one of my treasures since Dan's actions called to me years ago and opened my heart wide enough to be able to risk arrest and say “NO; not in my name.”

wondrously

the unknown

coincides

with the known

when on the way

knowing is renounced.

The nun knelt down

before the ghost train

snaking its cargo

breathlessly, noiselessly

like a hellish midair

mutant

through the night.

Would death stop short

halt in its tracks?

No way of knowing.

Unknowing

undesirous of knowing

she knows only

(a preview

of beatific dawn)

who

goes

there

Daniel