Tom
Don't stop giving yourself away. You are still the best friend to a seventeen year old kid.
A myriad of fingers. The youngest old man I ever knew blew a kiss into the hall. It remains there to this day. On walls with charts and numbers without names.
It isn't a matter of "fairness" when an unopened letter becomes the beautiful half of a golden hurt.
What others found in human love, you found in the eyes of your father. He floated away when he decided he didn't like the taste of the air here. The molecules of his existence were transformed into a pocket full of seeds. Falling into the wind. A grand ballet of dancing specks, travelling, seeking, fluttering. Falling or flying. Dropping or creating. Spit out by the earth and called back. The warmth of the soil, greedy in anticipation for a birth. You have to wait to be gathered. And you did. I never knew you, but the closeness you bring to me is something I'll never understand.
But will always cherish.
An impossibility of staying. Stubborn or changing with the wind.
Perrenial.
Surviving the cold/
Always achieving and then losing the sensation of being completed with the soil.
What doesn't belong?
It's not for anyone to decide who gets to stay.
A constant disquisition.
In every medicine, there is a little poison. In every soul there are unsaid words.
When you let them out.
One way to learn about faith, is to lose it completely.
How gently you left, your goodbye still in the air. Nothing can ever move the significance of finally feeling as if you have arrived.
And you did.
A myriad of fingers. The youngest old man I ever knew blew a kiss into the hall. It remains there to this day. On walls with charts and numbers without names.
It isn't a matter of "fairness" when an unopened letter becomes the beautiful half of a golden hurt.
What others found in human love, you found in the eyes of your father. He floated away when he decided he didn't like the taste of the air here. The molecules of his existence were transformed into a pocket full of seeds. Falling into the wind. A grand ballet of dancing specks, travelling, seeking, fluttering. Falling or flying. Dropping or creating. Spit out by the earth and called back. The warmth of the soil, greedy in anticipation for a birth. You have to wait to be gathered. And you did. I never knew you, but the closeness you bring to me is something I'll never understand.
But will always cherish.
An impossibility of staying. Stubborn or changing with the wind.
Perrenial.
Surviving the cold/
Always achieving and then losing the sensation of being completed with the soil.
What doesn't belong?
It's not for anyone to decide who gets to stay.
A constant disquisition.
In every medicine, there is a little poison. In every soul there are unsaid words.
When you let them out.
One way to learn about faith, is to lose it completely.
How gently you left, your goodbye still in the air. Nothing can ever move the significance of finally feeling as if you have arrived.
And you did.