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.