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Jan 2012
Soulful Migration

Dedicated to all whose names are only spoken from headstones and now flowers is the only representation of their sweet presence that use to be aromatic and change our moods and thoughts with precious regularity now we are left to recall their words from memories grand in a much sadder land

A stream of faces and lives collect in a desert pool man’s measure stands in the stature of those he
Knows life’s heat he assuages from this spring shadowed and cool the best medicine man knows is

Family and friends formidable are the mountains the arid land belongs to no man although Georgia O
Keefe revealed its hidden Burnished glory time is the relentless stalker youth falls before its will surly

The bugler stands at life’s sunset to play taps so life is ran this one thing I know he will play reveille at the

Eastern gate the hair has turned snowy white soon the soul will know freedom we who are left will
Celebrate and speak the truth of your nobility you placed in our soul’s steel and granite enough to defend

A kingdom the majesty of God declared your lives must be or all would be vain life can best be described
As grand theater the elderly are the stars and we are the understudy the divine architect designed the

Physical stage in perfect ascetic severity the symmetry is flawless no angles are hidden from view the
Cost to play on this stage is everything you have or ever hope to have the consequence is eternal the
Low and frivolous are denied any central part

Good by Uncle Floyd aunt Kate
Written by
Hal Loyd Denton  Pana Ill
(Pana Ill)   
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