Sometimes loneliness makes the loudest noise.

there is some achingthat will only heal...in the mosque of sleep.

When I ache to live, my mind loves to stay with the peaceful whiteness of a pigeon’s care...in boundless amity..

Sometimes a broken heart can mend something else's brokenness

I’ve reached the vanishing point without you.Here my heartache begins with your paintrying to find an unborn startin this fatal disappearanceFrom the poem ‘Me with the Vanishing Point

When sadness knows the reason of tears, heart prepares to carry the ache for years

I am most anxious to give my own children enough love and understanding so that they won't grow up with an aching void in them--like you and I and Harold and Martha. That can never be filled, and one goes around all one's life trying, trying to make up for what one didn't get that was one's birthright, asking the wrong people for it.