In the midst of the night he wonders can my tears of sorrow perish under the stars? He sees the pain in my spirit, the whole in my tortured heart, and the stab wounds in my soul. Yet, quicker than the speed of sound he soars into the sky, grasping a star from the universe. It is the only one sparkling, I noticed, very different, like me.

He flies to my soul, and suddenly, his spirit and my tortured soul, in one combined. He alone awakens me, as though he feels my pain. And so I cry. The light around him is suddenly bright. And I feel him all around me, cherishing the gift I have been given. And still, yet, he soars quicker than the speed of sound back into the stars. The angel of poetry sings with me through and through , never failing to touch heaven. And so I tell you, my dear friend, the angel of poetry never leaves a single sparkling star alone in the sky.