A sad man becomes a poet when
he transcends mortality in memory.
Sad man, I wish you farewell and pray
that your soul finds peace eternal.

As human beings, we move so roughly.
We say things so harshly and use
language so ugly, so detached.

As spirits, we may exist as love
in the hearts of those who care
enough to remember we were human.

When our spirit and our humanity
finally meet face to face,
The ocean of nameless spirits and faces
recedes. The stale tide water leaves
the bay and all safe harbor. We
venture toward adventure on the undulating waves
and set sail for that new life- horizon bound.

Pink and gold, a purple splash
in a cerulean sky, something I
once drew with a digital crayon
right behind your eyes, the sun
still shines.