52 Minus 20

Twenty years silted in,

Gone, poof,

To the day, and Time’s arrow

Still flies for me, truer, straighter,

Though I have sadly frittered away

Many hours, 

As we all do.

And yet for your physical absence

You have bestowed some indelible

Gift, a treasure of time to hold within

Me always — I return to the well-worn

Touchstone of the blessed present tense,

Again and again,

A slowing down,

To bridge the gaps,

Stitching moment with moment.

When I rest,
When I dream,
When I pray,

You return to me,
Brother,
Fully alive,

Ray of light,

Filling the void.

March 7, 2013