You still are my blue jay of yore,
the songbird on the low branch
of the evergreen tree under which
I pitched my tent till my thirst was quenched
by your arias in blissful altisima poured in to my soul.
Your songs steadfastly refuse
to go down with time like leaves that wither and fall
those immortal moments, you gifted
did flow in to the blue ocean of time
where i float, refusing to  be beaten down by waves.
Those notes by sheer power of infused spirit
of your heart, make me still buoyant, I am indebted,
your song book,  in gold is engraved,  in my heart.
One journey continues, unmindful of every change,
through planes of timeless nature where we are one
defying rules man made, and imposed by mind.
We are two pure notes of music that fly, up and above
merge with the sonorous primordial hum of divine.