What words do I give you? Parting
words for the year, blessing words for your journey, for your life.
Seems weaving words is my craft, like yours, only now
I don't know which words to weave together, which ones you'll hear and believe
and keep.
I could say I love you. Which is very true.
But how is that different from all of the others in the room we shared once a week,
all those who longed for a shining piece of you to light them through
until the next time?
I need different words, more accurate words,
but for once, they fail me. Talking
is not always the same as speaking.
That's why I hide in music. Songs
say what I can not, or more honestly,
what I do not dare to.
So how do I tell you without music?
How do I tell you that you were an anchor?
How to show you that you helped me grow?
Listening to you sing is a preview of angel light and song.
It softens my insides, making me want to melt
with crystal tears.
Watching you sing shows me what is in your heart.
And I so want you to see that I understand,
that I care about whatever you are singing to explain.
Watching you move through life
with your ferocious grace
lights fire which burns strength inside me,
consuming sadness and pity tears,
however beautiful and deserved they feel.
Hot strength as from a blacksmith's fire,
to stand up strong
and demand what is mine,
reach out and take it.
And when there is nothing there, strength to
make it. Inner tools to forge
my own hope, which you have taught me is
the most precious thing.
And you believe
in me, that I will keep reaching and growing
even when you're not around to remind me that I have the tools.
But you made them.
OK, well at least you showed me they were there already.
Not gifts from some god,
but from me to me to use to benefit others
while not forgetting myself.
That is what I want to thank you for.
Although no amount of words could ever say enough.
If I could hold you, however briefly,
maybe you could feel it and not need the words.
But that particular gift does not seem to be given to me
this time around our little blue ball.
So paper and ink will have to do.
Fly with your joy to your new warmer place,
where you will find refuge inside your Head,
where you will see life daily
through the eyes of a fiery dancing child
who already knows more about life
then most of us will ever remember we ever knew.
Soar there with your joy and your blessings.
But remember that you brought them with you.
No one else can create them for you.
They can add to them,
and sometimes subtract from them,
but you are the only one
who can create or destroy them
altogether.
That's another thing you taught me.
And you never let me hide from it in front of you.
Giving other people that responsibility is the easy way out.
It sometimes made me angry
that you never let me get away easy
from my anger
or my lack
or my fullness
or my joy.
But I know now that was your way
of showing me you saw me.
It's easier for others to help me look away,
because they can join me in averting their eyes.
Invisibility is safe. But you saw me.
And I saw myself. And I couldn't turn away.
But neither did you.
Maybe that was your way
of loving me back.
So we come to this fork in the road.
I'll go one way, you've chosen another.
Don't look back regretting anything.
Release the dark things to the Light.
And let the good things
echo
echo
echo
back to and through
the lives of everyone,
the songs of all those
who have been blessed
to be touched by you.
Namaste.
December 23, 2005 - for Amy, my beloved friend and KJ. With love always. Merry Christmas and a hope filled New Year!