How useless would that computer be
That followed its own desires,
Never trusting the commands
Of its rightful User?

A computer that shuns it's purpose
The power of it's dutiful, expensive organs,
A body created for service to others,
Wasted potential sitting dormant.

That Computer escapes destruction,
That obeys without hesitation,
complete dedication without limits,
Overclocked and freely giving.

That Computer receives good things,
Care, and trust and abundant use,
The User can do miraculous things
That only the computer makes possible.

It asks for nothing and yet receives
When it's parts wear out, they are renewed
The User gives what the computer needs
A bond exists that is fruitful and true.

That computer lives forever,
That loves the User
Above all else.

A birth in silence opens your eyes
to a distant gaze.
Yet what is seen is not this time,
It is not this place.

Like a hand that grasps escaping light,
Glimpses enter your true sight,
This is a battle and you must fight,
To paint this picture with feeling's might.

With storms embraced and courage held,
Ignore the fear and phantoms untrue,
Rise to beauty, to love, that sacred virtue,
Art is what wants to happen through you!

It feels to me,
That love is the awareness,
Of the unity of the present
With the depth of eternity.

Im doomed to imagine,
How beautiful it would be
If your hands held mine,
As though you loved me.
If only I could hold you,
I could finally breathe.
Maybe I will have the courage,
To tell you how I feel.
But I'm trapped in my fear,
lacking what you want to see.
Tormented by sincere desire,
I'll pray for strength to keep
This kindling from your spark.
Wandering in the dark,
I hope some words will find me
To comfort others with my art.

I'll bear the greatest temptations,
Lest it make me waste away,
Those moments of passion rightfully yours.
The thought that you exist,
Banishes the feeling that I'm alone.
Such is my love for you, oh woman,
Whom I do not know,
That I shall seek no pleasure in the present,
But wait with faith for God to show,
That a man of virtue exists for you
And you exist for him to know.

Dawn begins another Day,
As Helios climbs the horizon.
That life-giving light that shimmers,
warm on the eyelids of sleeping Spring,
The light that wakes the world,
brings great beginnings,
of seasons and divine beings,
like waves on a blissful ocean,
it gives great joy to remember
that this Day is Yours.

A moment, a glimpse that resonates
Unfurling an idea, a rose.
Every choice is a petal
That needs your devotion.
A sentence, movement in time,
Our brave becoming
Something grand soaring high,
above green mountains.
You can't write it without becoming it.
We meet ourselves in a poem,
No matter who wrote it.