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    On the angel face, the iron-tooth-time has ploughed groove-memorials! The Time: A pilgrimage place of soul wounds and scar-wounds that are fleeting and ever-wishing to be forgotten! With each small and decisive fragment-memory we have locked in our hearts, we may gain wiser experiences, so that we may better accept our complete transformed personality-metamorphoses of ourselves: with responsibility, patience, and perhaps with our main accepting understanding!

    Precious time, which sheds the gift-emotions of minutes doomed to mortality, almost as pearl-ashes of drops, like the drum-beating of soul-bells longing for the blessed repose of remembrance, forgetting the only desire of the creative man for grace: to spend the rich and fertile fragmentary moments of his existence in the sanctified peace-harmony of peace among his family members, and alas! - every particle of breath and every hard heartbeat sounds like a bitter lamentation - for which, in his fateful wars, in his spiritual storms, or in his life's struggles, man has been forced to struggle, to find the truly unique opportunities

    when the bliss of the heavenly earth, the symphonies of unrepeatability, caress the veil of conscience with soft melodious Edenic voice-sighs, are perhaps for every human man the earthly incarnations of immortal moments. And perhaps the most difficult human task is: How much time does life, condemned to the prison of mortality, give for the happy rejoicing to arrive on angel wings in the sincere soul of our hearts?

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