It Just Takes A Long

I Am An Old Scholar, Better-looking Now Than When I Was Young. That's What Sitting On Your Ass Does To Your Face.

My Heart Sings Of Your Longing For Me, And My Thoughts Climb Down To Marvel At Your Mercy. I Do Not Fear As You Gather Up My Days. Your Name Is The Sweetness Of Time, And You Carry Me Close Into The Night, Speaking Consolations, Drawing Down Lights From The Sky, Saying, See How The Night Has No Terrors For One Who Remembers The Name.

I Don't Even Hate Books Anymore.

I Greet You From The Other Side Of Sorrow And Despair, With A Love So Vast And Shattered It Will Reach You Everywhere.

A Scar Is What Happens When The Word Is Made Flesh.