(this poem is for a friend of mine who is passing from a rare brain disease)

A belief,

On our

great

journey,



we must

leave

the world's

reasons

behind,



like the

fallen lies

of a

child"s

nursery

rhyme



instead

in a

open field

I will

sit and

mediate

you.



this is

real.



I feel it

through

and through

the marrow

of my

weary

bones.



and as

I sit

the

flowers

will

color me,



and the

air

will breathe

life into

me.



and all

that I

see will

take

root in

who you

are.



I do

not ask

why.



to me

it is

not a

child's

nursery

rhyme



it is

so much

more.



and I

shall

believe

it until

the day

that I

die..



and my

spirit

leaves this

world behind.



through

the open

sky..