your moods and colors are my climate, not the changing face of the sky
…the religion of the heart is as intimate as a wish breathed to the night sky…
I keep coming back to certain books, and you—to try to find myself again
suffering breaks us until there’s nothing left but gentleness
…that’s the essence of me – I don’t think, I feel – at best, I think-feel…
…you became lost in the maze of me – forgive me Love, for keeping you close…
the struggle is not with others, but within us, to do what we are called to do
…I pray this winter be gentle and kind – a season of rest from the wheel of the mind…
… you are lovely – God has painted every feature of your soul …
…the most beautiful things don’t always make you happy – often they make you weep…
I am in love with the stars of night – I have made them audible…
…we’ve let go of so many things, but never each other’s hand …
…what else would a poet priest do on an endless night, but write of love?…
…my novels are like life – I never know where they’re going until I get to the end…
A heart never breaks in the same pattern of pieces
you are the mysterious fire at my finger tips
…the feelings that pass between us are deeper than fleshly touches…
…you found me in my lonely labyrinth and like Beatrice, led me out of my own hell…
…you knew I was confused, tormented, but you enticed me – led me on…
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