For Avery

A gentle reminder of who he is. For the dark times.

Authors, they say,

Are children at heart,

Wandering, wandering

Through the worlds,

Through the paths,

Stumbling, stumbling.

But I'll tell you this:

And you'll know it's true,

Fearless, fearless.

Fearless are the hearts of those

Who go places

Beyond their own home.

Authors they say

Are madmen at heart,

Weaving, weaving

Word by word,

Line by line,

Stubbornly, stubbornly.

But I'll tell you this

And you'll know it's true:

Openly, openly.

Openly they receive the gifts

Of the infinite,

Hidden from the others.

Authors, they say

Are children at heart,

Sensitive, sensitive.

Easily hurt,

Too fragile,

Easily broken.

But I'll tell you this

And you'll know it's true:

Where would the world be,

If there were no other

Places beyond

Opened by us?..

We are fragile,

As all people are,

Tis true, but we're not afraid.

To tap into darkness,

Or follow the light

Until we run out of fear.

I'll tell you what,

And you'd better believe,

Authors are knights at heart.

Fighting for those

Who needs hope to survive,

Wanting to stay alive.