How lonely he must be.

Anchored to me
   by bonds of love
   for the One
Who created us;
   masterpieces
   in transitory ruin.

Watching charges
   dulled
   with grime
   is a weary task;
Uncompensated
   and solitary.

Eighty-six thousand
   four hundred
   times a day --
Do guardian angels
   feel the length
   of a second?

How painful it must be
   To wait for a gaze
   of recognition
   from eyes unable to see.

Thank you seems so paltry;
   Too cheap a recompense.
Intercessory prayer
   is the best that I can offer;
   with my love,
   and hope
That God will bless him.

My loyal friend.