(written on 1/11/09)


Homage


Run wild, the wandering vagabond does,
from whose actions and words the truest of echoes resound,
With no pretense, no knowledge of how or why
Always telling themselves "it could have been more".
Returning to the past where silence is gone, and sunlight, an uncommon novelty,
Where long lost companions pay homage to an old friend they once knew, in brilliance, I find no reason for secrets.
We dream dreams of bonfires and ancient tigerlilys, prized jewels born of this ground, unfamiliar berries, and various unaccounted fruits of the land.

We tell stories we made up ourselves

Whether they be from imagination or from divine memory - who is really able to say?
Our beloved will always live and rest in peace.
Our prayers are answered here.