In love perfect . . .
. . . I mourn for what had been,
on a far saner planet than here.
No fences and many, many who cared deeply.
Friendships unenvied by such as this sick society.
I mourn for what I knew and can't find here,
when there, was no thought of even looking,
when it was ever at hand, heart to heart,
on that planet of platinum, golden rule of love.
I mourn with whom sing of my heart here, unknowing,
crashing me down in deepest of sorrow,
but here for final reasons, for few who have sought
and found what, easy there, was only found in suffering
here, where I had to come, to help in hope
that faith wouldn't die for the most precious,
whose hearts, in cruel crucible, hardships many,
would soar higher than ever, in answer . . .
. . . with overcoming faith in love perfected.