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While pangs of loneliness
tear at my heart and soul,
Claw at my gut and I try desperately to put things right and make my self whole I cry out in anguish for
a friend who will listen.
And then -- you appear on my horizon.
III.
In this dream there is not the wild, impassioned desire To see. to hear, to know, to touch the warmth of the fire That lit the lamps of earlier dreams,
That blossomed, but died with the first light of dawn.
In this dream, compassion, peace, poetry, psalms, Love, langour, loyalty and strength abound.
On my heels are the wings of Hermes.
In my heart the song of the first bird awake;
And - I am awake, dear heart, because of you.
J