Part I
Do I have tattered
Courage to feel respite in the morning?
We mourn the passing of our great friend, brother, uncle and hero
An unheralded and oft-dismissed saint of the highest.
We poets, soldiers, teachers
and stakeholders in the bonds of
Humanity
He, a finder of words and
Fate who breaks our hearts daily.
If we can stay the course of true attention
To the moment
To the ways that defy explanation
It is as though we are cracking open his heart,
Our hearts,
On a page.
Daily, we wonder if we will take another breath
Without his kindness
His gentleness
His breath of concern.
And when we waken
Assured he is still there
At least in our heart shadows
We can rest indubitably
for there is no more pain for him
Only a fraudulent yet precious peace.
‘ Twas cruel fate that kept us apart
The storms thick with victory at the finish line
Yet we were together
Because we were, you know
We really were.
Part II
Like the tide
I long to submerge
and drown
Away from the icy air of reality
The reality of none, no one,
no more you
The death of joy and your voice
The silencing of your song
Your poem
Your deep laughter
Falling, cascading, cartwheeling
Down ’round my heart.
It is under the sea
I am under the sea.
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