The Blessed Soul
He read to me
from the green apple
the generosity of a dying ant
He petted my hair
and gave me a drink
from the tears of fairies!
He shook my hand
watered the broken vase in the corner yard
Remembered the dying fish in the black bowl too
Played me music
the blessed soul
One night while I was sleeping on the dying thread of eternity
That night behind the horizon of I see nothing,feel nothing and maybe the end is near
While I was trying to repeat"This shall pass too, this shall pass too" over and over again,,,
He sparkled like a star
now nothing is the same
He sang me a song
"He my son!"
p.k Jan 27,2015