July 06, 2020

 

Friend

 
 
 

Friend, I know you not yet,
But I yearn for your comraderies
Out of the harshened mist of memory
I see the mystery of your face,
And take joy at such handsome company.
Why must our meeting be so tumultuous?
My tongue near rends itself in two in effort to entertain you.
My mind stands aghast, lackluster in shock


I was a spark, an ember of vitality
surviving on spite in a muted realm.
You - a fresh wind, stirred the magic behind me
and turned my course unto questing
- On to Glory again.
AND I AM MADE A FLAME.

Article © Patrick Devine. All rights reserved.
Published on 2003-11-22


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