It is a walk
on a warm day in welcoming woods
It is a sip while cradling a hot mug
beside a friend
It is a smile
that needs no words and demands no explanation
It is a tear
that streams down speedily, paying homage
It is a dog
racing wildly through the woods
yet somehow only a part of it all
It is a kindred soul
that could be found with closed eyes in a dark room
This is the ritual of friendship.
BL
2/28/11
Thank you for visiting my piece of The Sunday Creative. This one goes out to my friend Shah, and to our Dads, who made sure through the ether that we found each other, somehow, some way. Saturday was four years since Dad crossed over, as he called it, but I can still find him in the trees, just like he said.
What a lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful, Bethany.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful!
ReplyDeleteDid you have a good weekend?
Seriously beautiful, Bethany!
ReplyDelete