How lonely he must be.
Anchored to me
by bonds of love
for the One
Who created us;
masterpieces
in transitory ruin.
Watching charges
dulled
with grime
is a weary task;
Uncompensated
and solitary.
Eighty-six thousand
four hundred
times a day --
Do guardian angels
feel the length
of a second?
How painful it must be
To wait for a gaze
of recognition
from eyes unable to see.
Thank you seems so paltry;
Too cheap a recompense.
Intercessory prayer
is the best that I can offer;
with my love,
and hope
That God will bless him.
My loyal friend.
Peter Falkenberg Brown is passionate about writing, publishing and public speaking. He hopes that someday he can live up to his favorite motto: “Expressing God’s white-hot, transcendent love in all directions, every second of every day, creates an infinitely expanding sphere of heart.”
