Every new dayOur children's joy is as fresh as roses,Even the birds chatter at dawn.

Paradise is no whim.It takes time and trust,You see.

Sacred space in whichTo distil, like amber,The best of your love.

For every moment of suffering,Others will arriveThat will instead pierce you with joy.

Open the doors of your heart and they will come…And for every cruel arrow,Sweet caresses of delirium alsoTo nourish your soul.

In this life at least,Our fate is rarely epic.Maybe just as well,Impervious heroes we are not…

Once spun,The silken thread of all our aspirationsRemains intact,It can never be broken.

Be as audaciousAs you wish.By all means look to the heavens.