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To Linford, from Raven
I first met you in the company of a man named D. M., one
whose name changes with the tides and is easily forgotten
but whose black fedora and comic swagger linger at the
edges of memory for years. It was strange indeed to find
a wonderous apple orchard hanging in a corner of his coyote
smile, and perhaps you are all the more special because of
the unlikely manner in which you entered my heart. Life has
been enriched beyond measure by the fragile passion of your
words, by the tenuous joy of your music.
Thank you.
I cannot tell you anything new. I can only say what I am thinking.
Perhaps that can be enough.
For the last two years, I have been studying Science in graduate
school. The "what" of this study is unimportant...but the more
involved the study became, the less poetry entered my journalings
and the less I was able to practice or sing.
If I were to die now, my largest--and indeed, only--regret
would be that I have failed to pursue this longing, my Art.
You shine so brightly because you follow your Dreams. You
refuse to be reasonable; it makes you brilliant, a butterfly
after spring rain, a dream-waking echo of undeniable Grace.
No force can take that from you--
No corporate power can deny who you Are,
above or beneath these wrinkled bits of paper.
The Orchard may grow distant from its roots, as time and
opportunity beckon. The roots will remain, solid and firm
in the brown moist earth, as the brilliance of Grace and
Dream warms their hope-chilled fingers.
Blessings upon you, always,
Raven