Set upon a walk I did,
Through my hometown,
Silent in the cold.

And as I walked as I did,
I passed by such a mortal sight,
A garden dead,
Which once bloomed in twilight.

And shed a tear I did,
Yet of sadness not,
For I know new flowers will bloom again.

Today, September 27th, will have been my father’s 80th birthday. Eighteen years have passed since his departure, yet his memory remains as vibrant as ever. I recall with fondness the countless lessons he imparted, the guidance he offered so effortlessly, and the unwavering integrity he instilled within me.

Though he is no longer physically present, I feel his presence in the values he left behind. His love for his grandchildren was boundless, and they, like me, miss him deeply. As they prepare to become parents themselves, I can’t help but wonder how he would have guided them through this new chapter.

As I approach the age my father was when he passed, I find myself grappling with my mortality. The uncertainty of the future can be overwhelming, and sometimes, it feels like I’m merely going through the motions. Yet, amid this introspection, I find solace in the memories of my father. Every aspect of my life seems to echo his influence, reminding me of the man he was and the legacy he left behind.

Perhaps it is fitting that his memory should be so intertwined with my journey. His love, wisdom, and unwavering spirit continue to guide me, even as I navigate the uncharted waters of my own life. And as I look ahead, I find comfort in the knowledge that his legacy will live on through me and through the generations to come.

there’s a great divide -
between the anatomy of my brain,
and the fluidity of my mind;
i struggle to make the crossover,
for i must advance in phases
in between their flimsy makeovers:
in, and out -
then back in again.
the brain is humbled by its own mortality;
the mind boasts of an eternal life;
both petrified by dubious thoughts
of yesterday -
and the day before that -
and the month before that -
and the years before…

as i regress -
slowly, and infinitely -
i long for my natal mind,
and a tougher cranium.

When I die, don’t look for me in the stars,
Look for me in my words.
Look for me in the books that line the shelves,
The letter “R” and the letter “E—"
And in every word you see them,
Please think of me.

Look for me where I’ve walked
And where I’ve never been.
Look for me in sadness, and I’ll be there...
But look for me in joy, too, won’t you?
Since they’re both so beautiful,
And both so true.

When I die, come look for me here;
Words won’t just disappear.