Oct 2013
I have some things to say to you my friend,
if friends we still are.
Things that I should have said long ago,
things I have always been afraid to say.
In this quiet night, this pregnant silence,
I wonder why you chose to show yourself
in my dream last night, unbidden, unlooked for,
as if you had always belonged there.
Maybe it was only my old heart yearning for company,
or perhaps a guilty conscience, ugly brute that he is.
But I prefer to believe in what feels true,
in what Rumi and Shams would say if I asked.
I knew I was dreaming, but it was the best kind of dream;
a dream that's more real than a summer afternoon.
The kind of dream that begins with waking up;
especially when it's Mandy's wet nose in my face.
I wish I could remember the words you spoke to me,
after you finished laughing that is.
But then, the memory I have I think is enough,
because sometimes words just get in the way of what eyes can say.
You followed me around all day today, purposefully
commenting on the state of my mind,
And heart, as I rushed the day away.
You smiled and laughed and made your fine acquaintance,
when I introduced you to my friend.
Yes my friend, the Cypress I always sit under when I break at work,
he liked you very much, but found you more of a Willow person.
And I didn't realize how the little things are evident more,
when I brushed that cockroach from my knee.
But you pointed out to me that the me you knew once,
would not have simply brushed it aside and let lie.
I guess I finally learned that he has just as much
right to be there as I do, under that Cypress tree.
And that set the wheel in motion, you and the tree;
what else have I been missing?
This is not a love song, nor an ode, nor a plea of some kind;
my heart doesn't have room for motives or means any more.
This is a thank you, an adoration, an exaltation, a hug or three;
a fire rekindled and a regret unmade.
The truth is that I want to say something to you,
something that I don't know will sound right,
Or convey everything that I want to,
but again, sometimes words just get in the way.
The truth is that I have never, ever met someone with the faith and the power and the love and the strength to do what you did. You went all the way to hell and turned back, turned back the dark not with a hate and a burning, but with leaf and branch. I know I don't have the whole story, and that I was gone, in my own way, but I don't think I need to know anymore than what you've told me, what others have told me, and what I've seen. I don't have the words to tell you how much I love you for who you are, and what you did for me when I was nearly lost myself. You gave me hope amid despair, and courage amid cowardice and I just want you to know that when I think of the souls I have met on this road, you shine with the clearest. Thank you Adri.
if friends we still are.
Things that I should have said long ago,
things I have always been afraid to say.
In this quiet night, this pregnant silence,
I wonder why you chose to show yourself
in my dream last night, unbidden, unlooked for,
as if you had always belonged there.
Maybe it was only my old heart yearning for company,
or perhaps a guilty conscience, ugly brute that he is.
But I prefer to believe in what feels true,
in what Rumi and Shams would say if I asked.
I knew I was dreaming, but it was the best kind of dream;
a dream that's more real than a summer afternoon.
The kind of dream that begins with waking up;
especially when it's Mandy's wet nose in my face.
I wish I could remember the words you spoke to me,
after you finished laughing that is.
But then, the memory I have I think is enough,
because sometimes words just get in the way of what eyes can say.
You followed me around all day today, purposefully
commenting on the state of my mind,
And heart, as I rushed the day away.
You smiled and laughed and made your fine acquaintance,
when I introduced you to my friend.
Yes my friend, the Cypress I always sit under when I break at work,
he liked you very much, but found you more of a Willow person.
And I didn't realize how the little things are evident more,
when I brushed that cockroach from my knee.
But you pointed out to me that the me you knew once,
would not have simply brushed it aside and let lie.
I guess I finally learned that he has just as much
right to be there as I do, under that Cypress tree.
And that set the wheel in motion, you and the tree;
what else have I been missing?
This is not a love song, nor an ode, nor a plea of some kind;
my heart doesn't have room for motives or means any more.
This is a thank you, an adoration, an exaltation, a hug or three;
a fire rekindled and a regret unmade.
The truth is that I want to say something to you,
something that I don't know will sound right,
Or convey everything that I want to,
but again, sometimes words just get in the way.
The truth is that I have never, ever met someone with the faith and the power and the love and the strength to do what you did. You went all the way to hell and turned back, turned back the dark not with a hate and a burning, but with leaf and branch. I know I don't have the whole story, and that I was gone, in my own way, but I don't think I need to know anymore than what you've told me, what others have told me, and what I've seen. I don't have the words to tell you how much I love you for who you are, and what you did for me when I was nearly lost myself. You gave me hope amid despair, and courage amid cowardice and I just want you to know that when I think of the souls I have met on this road, you shine with the clearest. Thank you Adri.
