I couldn’t have dreamed you into existence because I didn’t even know I needed you. You must have been sent to me.

Last night, I spoke to God.I told Him my plans. He started to cry.I thought I was great to move The Greatest to tears.He said that He was crying only becausemy plans were very differentthan His plans for me.

Maybe stories choose how they are told and who tells them.

You do not have to be beautiful.You do not even have to be intelligent.All you have to do is practice kindness,for that is our purpose.

Maybe love at first sight isn’t what we think it is. Maybe it’s recognising a soul we loved in a past life and falling in love with them again.

How is it that there was never youuntil there wasand then all was you?

We live only for the hope of love.

This poem was meant to be unwritten. But I am writing it now and have thereby changed destiny.

I write our names on the page.What of it, if the paper will be burned?I write our names in the sand.What of it, if the shore will be washed by waves?I write our names on trees that will be cutand benches that will be painted,but what of it?I will keep on writing our namesbecause in this world of ephemera, You and I are the only constant.