It's So Different To Be A Sparrow.

Perhaps You Can Feel If You Can’t Hear,” Was Her Fancy. “perhaps Kind Thoughts Reach People Somehow, Even Through Windows And Doors And Walls. Perhaps You Feel A Little Warm And Comforted, And Don’t Know Why, When I Am Standing Here In The Cold And Hoping You Will Get Well And Happy Again.

That's What I Look At Some People For. I Like To Know About Them. I Think Them Over Afterward.

We Do Not Believe Until We Want A Thing And Feel That We Shall Die If 'tis Not Granted To Us, And Then We Kneel And Kneel And Believe, Because We Must Have Someone To Ask Help From.

When The Day Comes That I Kneel By Your Bedside And See Your Eyes Close, Or You Kneel By Mine, It Must Be That The One Who Waits Behind Shall Know The Parting Is Not All.

I Am Writing In The Garden. To Write As One Should Of A Garden One Must Write Not Outside It Or Merely Somewhere Near It, But In The Garden.