As Long As An Angel Is Not

This Is How It Always Is When I Finish A Poem. A Great Silence Overcomes Me And I Wonder Why I Ever Thought To Use Language.

Love Is Not Written On Paper, For Paper Can Be Erased. Nor Is It Etched On Stone, For Stone Can Be Broken. But It Is Inscribed On A Heart And There It Shall Remain Forever.

If My Head Holds One Thought Wise And Clear, It's You. Poor As I Am, What I Hold Dear Is You. No Matter How I See Myself, I'm Nothing ... Anything I Am Entirely Is You!

Many Of The Faults You See In Others, Dear Reader, Are Your Own Nature Reflected In Them.

Reality Is Blocked By Form And Image.