To our mothers, sisters, fathers, brothers, cousins, friends and spouses that lost their lives that day, to those we didn't know at all who said goodbye to their people for the final time that day, to the hearts of those that mourned along side a grieving nation.
We have not forgotten you, we have not denied ourselves of you and your memory.
We love today because we once loved you, we live today because of the way we once lived with you, we sleep and dream at night hoping its of you.
After sleep, tomorrow, with the new but very old sun, we'll rise. We'll breathe and stretch and move forward- heads high and hearts full in your honor. May God watch over us all.
Good Lord I loved those old days.
They way that life it glowed.
West Virgina misty mountains-
a girl I used to know.
All the people I done roamed with.
oh the songs that we all sung.
In that subtle little accent-
the sunrise always young.
Thank you for your time Sir.
Pleasure to meetcha Ma'am.
Here's a kettle full of memories-
and a vessel to be manned.
As we ride across the channels.
All our demons strong in tow.
Its every tiny morsel-
that gives us strength to row.
Downward way past furthur.
Always fresh right on the mind.
Is the way the forest parted-
when we left it all behind.
Ah but never to be forsaken.
Somewhere on a shelf.
Is a little piece of all of you-
and a shadow of myself.
Holding a candle tightly.
Keeping up the pace.
An empty highway driving-
simply searching for some grace.
To keep up with ocean.
Then ride up with the wind.
Just to get up in the morning
find another place to swim.
Ebb and flow
here and there
Live and die
Cut and paste
Laugh and cry
Push and pull
Breezy notions set to mingle.
Blending country winds.
Regal elegant dance.
This light sees the light in you.
The fact that I caused this- is the sun.
The fact that you let it happen- is the moon.
What lies in the space between is inconceivable.
There is no strength great enough to hang in the balance.
Unrequited it's a blessing to have truly loved. To have dangled precariously from the branch of another.
The actual limb at the fringe holds in its hand a magic. Leaking as a river flowing swift to the sea.
A tree of many roads not unlike the spine and nerves. The game comes along the telephone wire morphing like a child.
Hardening over time is the vine so thick and wide. Lost in its abbreviation an hour hand that never moves to slow.
So empty- the plant in the corner waits for light. Listening to the sound of water flowing through its veins.
Still gaining maybe even thriving, minus the aching break. Breathing and holding on to the wind pouring through his hair.
Of fair essence and hope
a radiant beauty
awaiting her prince
Of long desire and heart
a tired warrior
bereft of oar
Of souls bright and warm
a universe forged
together in time
Chef TC (LGM!)