A Collection of Poems

After all is said and done,
In spite of the pain man inflicts on man,

And yes, it is necessary to dream.
For without our dreams
We are nothing.

Thoughts burn,
And then,
As the morning sun melts the night,

There is at times
Very little to go on,
To hope,
To dream,

What are these people about me,
But shadows of opaqueness,

Was it only a dream I lived?
It was real enough while it lasted –
My whole world of joy,

Time flies and yet,
Had I wanted to,
I could not have arrested it

No voice calls and yet,
T’would be blasphemy indeed
To say I were unwanted

Come, let us away.
Leave behind these questioning looks,
These mocking voices.

If destruction should ever result,
And pull out the foundations of this,

Oh, these rare moments of happiness,
So tiny, so brief, so ephemeral!

No, let there be no words.
For words are treacherous,
Unnecessary
Inadequate.

No mere friend do I see in you,
But a friend in every sense of the word.

I search for it,
Certain, though I have never seen it,
That it waits somewhere,

A poem of movement,
A smile like the shy lighting up of the sky in the early morning,

Dumb words,
Which may never reach you, my love,
But which I would still wordlessly

Joy and Beauty,
Goodness incarnate,
The warmth of the father himself,