We Are All Like The Bright Moon,

Poetry, My Dear Friends, Is A Sacred Incarnation Of A Smile. Poetry Is A Sigh That Dries The Tears. Poetry Is A Spirit Who Dwells In The Soul, Whose Nourishment Is The Heart, Whose Wine Is Affection. Poetry That Comes Not In This Form Is A False Messiah.

There Are Those Who Give Little Of The Much Which They Have - And They Give It For Recognition And Their Hidden Desire Makes Their Gifts Unwholesome.

My Friend, Be Not Like Him Who Sits By His Fireside And Watches The Fire Go Out, Then Blows Vainly Upon The Dead Ashes. Do Not Give Up Hope Or Yield To Despair Because Of That Which Is Past, For To Bewail The Irretrievable Is The Worst Of Human Frailties.

In The Depth Of Your Hopes And Desires Lies Your Silent Knowledge Of The Beyond.

Wake At Dawn With A Winged Heart And Give Thanks For Another Day Of Loving.