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I have been on the road chasing a ghost. Sometimes it is clearly that I can see her, and somehow insubstantial she fades when just within reach. I have been at the edge of this bridge before, I have crossed and I have crossed back. And now here I stand again. But this time I have felt it and I now know which way the wind is blowing. There is an expression, not my own..."to know me is to love me". And the truth of it is glaring. For the ghost, I care not any longer. To be seen...really. To be known...truly. "What is essential is invisible to the eye". These things, these become the grail for which I am looking. Do you know what I mean? I know a secret... and it is true: Love is not just a word.Final note: You get points if you know the first part of this poem: "But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."