Here I Am, Where I Am Supposed

But By The Time That I Had Nothing Left, I Myself Was The Lightest Thing Of All For Fate To Get Rid Of.

In The Mind And Nature Of A Man A Secret Is An Ugly Thing, Like A Hidden Physical Defect.

God Made The World, My Lord, And Looked At It, And Saw That It Was Good. Yes. But What If The World Had Looked Back At Him, To See Whether He Was Good Or Not?

A Visitor Is A Friend, He Brings News, Good Or Bad, Which Is Bread To The Hungry Minds In Lonely Places. A Real Friend Who Comes To The House Is A Heavenly Messenger, Who Brings The Panis Angelorum.

Up In This Air You Breathed Easily, Drawing In A Vital Assurance And Lightness Of Heart. In The Highlands You Woke Up In The Morning And Thought: Here I Am, Where I Ought To Be.