The following poem, by one of my favorite poets, seems to fit well with this.
"I penned ‘loneliness’ over silence’s doorway and finally entered in.
She was waiting there for me.
Seemingly staring at nothing and yet everything.
She held darkness with earned ease.
Her eyes were a trilogy that read me clearly.“What is it that you need?”
I summoned quiet as if that would comfort the conflict resting on soaked eyelashes; but, you see, sometimes we must find the courage to read from our heart’s open sleeves.
“If I could, I’d write a love note but right now, my words have become feathers and there’s a storm rising inside, and my spirit has given out because I can’t bear another love note gone wrong because of me.”
She nodded knowingly. “You have a great gift of loving but to those who can’t see. Now, please start writing a love note that begins with:
Dear me: You are the love you need.”"
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