Find your dream and protect it.
It is something they will try and peel from your clutching fingers and unbend from your arms,
but your weak body is strong and your helpless expressions are powerful.
The slits of light that reveal your eyes reveal your soul;
your soul is there and theirs are their souls and
you are inviolate and so are they.
They do not know that you are alive, and you are alive in a greater sense than you are,
where the weakness of one standing
alone has vanished. Hold your little head; do not hang it. Nothing is lost;
it is all found, and you are inseparable from yourself, left with an army of angels, mortal or immortal, holding your shoulders up to the world. If it is crying it is for freedom, if it is sorrow it is strength you will find buried.
The angels hold the silent reveries accounted to their lips.
You are never lost.
I love you.