I write a poem to my friends,
when all is hard and never ends:

As ending means that which seems,
and not what Is, and always been.

And hard is that in which is not,
the joy that’s found, when not forgot.

Fear not the flashing teeth,
of tigers in the mirrored mind’s belief.

Where is the bliss of silent rest,
too quiet to find in life’s tempest?

What veils are made from care and grief,
and what remembered brings relief?

When all is hard and never ends:
I write a poem to my friends.

David Taylor

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-write-a-poem-to-my-friends/