Both born of the fire,
Coming back with grace.
She comes over the wire,
A signal that can never be replaced.

I feel her coming and going,
Right inside my head.
She and I are filled with knowing,
My books she has surely read.

I am not ashamed of admitting need,
Or the air I need to breathe.
I will never fear falling nor speed,
When there is so much to believe.

Hear me call and hear me now,
that voice I shall purposely use.
When another is just the ‘how,’
And love is a beautiful fire I shall not lose.
Thomas Spychalski

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