How lonely he must be.

Anchored to me

by bonds of love

for the One

Who created us;

masterpieces

in transitory ruin.

Watching charges

dulled

with grime

is a weary task

Uncompensated

and solitary.

Eighty-six thousand

four hundred

times a day --

Do guardian angels

feel the length

of a second?

How painful it must be

To wait for a gaze

of recognition

from eyes unable to see.

Thank you seems so paltry;

Too cheap a recompense.

Intercessory prayer

is the best that I can offer;

with my love,

and hope

That God will bless him.

My loyal friend.

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