I found this poem on a page torn out from a magazine, hanging by a magnet on your refrigerator.
This poem could have been written for you.
When she walks into the room,
some kind of light is coming from her head.
Even the geraniums looks curious...
We're all attracted to her perfume
of fermenting joy,
we've all tried to start a fire,
and one day maybe it will blaze upon its own.
In the meantime, she is the one today among us
most able to bear the idea of her own beauty,
and when we see it, what we do is natural:
we take out our burned hands
out of our pockets,
---Tony Hoagland, from "Grammar"
I am lucky to know you and I feel in my heart you will do amazing things. Maybe this library with no books???
See you soon my sister and friend.