J. Kavanaugh's "Will You Be My Friend?" - Signed 1st Ed

This is a SIGNED FIRST EDITION (1971) hardback book in excellent condition.  Drawings by Merike Tumma.  Nash Publishing, Los Angeles, CA

A short biography of the author: 

Mr. Kavanaugh was born September 16, 1928, one of seven sons of an Irish-Catholic Michigan family.  As an ordained Catholic priest, Mr. Kavanaugh did post-graduate studies in Germany and at the Catholic University in Washington, D.C., earning doctorate degrees in clinical psychology and religious philosophy. Often read at weddings, his third book, "Will You Be My Friend?" reveals a great deal about the author.                   

"A Modern Priest Looks at His Outdated Church" and Mr. Kavanaugh’s second book, "The Birth of God", led to frequent speaking engagements at university campus, talk shows and even appearances on Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show.  But disliking the notoriety, while speaking to the Notre Dame graduating class, this “gentle revolutionary,” as college students were calling him, surrendered his Roman collar and scholars robes to begin a lifelong search.
Mr. Kavanaugh wrote his first book of poetry – "There are Men Too Gentle to Live among Wolves".   In the prologue, he describes himself more profoundly than any other words can: "I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret."  He would frequently to this theme and even now there are web sites dedicated to Kavanaugh and the Searchers. 

            Will you be my friend? 
          There are so many reasons why you never should: 
          I’m sometimes sullen, often shy, acutely sensitive, 
          My fear erupts as anger, I find it hard to give, 
          I talk about myself when I’m afraid 
          And often spend a day without anything to say, 
               But I will make you laugh 
               And love you quite a bit 
               And hold you when you’re sad. 
          I cry a little almost every day 
          Because I’m more caring than the strangers ever know, 
          And, if at time, I show my tender side 
          (The soft and warmer part I hide) 
               I wonder, 
               Will you be my friend?  ... 

         A friend 
               Who, when I fear your closeness, feels me push away 
               And stubbornly will stay to share what’s left on such a day, 
               Who, when no one knows my name or calls me on the phone, 
               When there’s no concern for me–what I have or haven’t done– 
               And those I’ve helped and counted on have, oh so deftly, run, 
               Who, when there’s nothing left but me stripped of charm and subtlety, 
               Will nonetheles remain. 

          Will you be my friend? 
                For no reason that I know 
                Except I want you so.