That in the midst of ceaseless striving and care, you remember. That your heart still is bound to me, though I be absent now from your arms. Reason is a poor solace when faith has shallow roots wanting shelter before they can deepen. Knowing this, do not pass me unseeing on the street like a beggar friendless in dispair, though I am. Do not despise my weakness, my frailty, as though it were only my strength you loved.
Love is breath and without it, life is emptied.
The homeless long for its return. Together, we teeter on that stone cliff's crag. Embracing you, I embrace the forgotten, and I hear my demon calling as if I were already dead.