There is a moment
When sunlight bathes the trees
And your thoughts
My dear, dear friend
Invade me.
You seem to love the morning
When our room is cool
And paper, pen and attitude
Anchor an old fool
Bowing fore your witness
Reaching out for lines
Winding towards your inner life
And sketching it in rhymes.
So soft your silent whispers
But clear and hardly grave
Patiently you elevate
These aging earthbound ways.
Why such generosity
Beloved friend of messy me?
Perhaps. . .
When time is near an end
And meeting on a star
You will share your name
Down here and how
I knew you then.
Until that day when music plays
Around and through our souls
We grasp the air and strain
To hear the cadence of your strolls
As we hope to be so still
And clearly hear your voice.
So busy we remain
Both supplicants and prey
Chasing our discordant days
Contradictions near your side
As sunlight bathes the morning trees
With songs of immortality.
May we always walk afar
Singing with a morning star
Reuniting earth with heaven
Brothers in this house forever.
copyright 2010