for Chris
It's OK to cry, my friend,
If you feel like a little boy
And your life appears empty
Of pleasure and comfort.
You are still Alive;
And it still has meaning
Through this dis-ease of
Pain that consumes your attention.
It's OK to feel like an old man, too,
If suddenly aging and dying
Seem to glow dimly in a false mirror at your face,
Taunting you into frustration and nausea.
'Why?' is the question you ask.
'Why am I punished?
I was only doing my best
And I'm sorry if I failed so deeply.
But, it's not fair!
How can it be?
There are worse failures
And I am only human.'
You are only Human,
So don't forget
This Pain is not Evil
Or Good, it just Is.
It is not God
Or an Angel of Darkness
Sent to scare you away
From Love.
It is a thing of Fate, perhaps,
A mystery of living,
A chance to watch your loved one
Love you, maybe.
If only you could see Her!
She is all Beauty now,
More than ever.
And her face is like the Light in a tragic darkness.
Pain is between you
But it's only a symptom
Of Time,
Flexible and strong.
Forgive Time;
It has no clue.
It is oblivious, in its Innocence,
As it does its job.
It moves at its own pace, true,
Crushing us on its way, but then
When it's had enough, it creates
Great sweeping and fragrant gardens
Of Relief.
And Relief will come,
Another symptom of Time.
The exotic pain will suddenly
Become a memory of
Time, having its way with you.
You will Live with your Angel
The one with the Light,
Who hovered gently along with Time,
Together inhaling the fragrance of Relief.
(Thanks, Liz, for the photo.)
