For M

For M

We had a good run.

gritty, real

                  and plenty foolish

like when you drew on paper

a thousand laughing faces

a static hallucination

we tried to reel our minds in from

the primordial lake of cosmic thoughts.

and when we drank the music

dancing rituals to bellowing guitar

circling youth’s flame

worshipping life itself

and spilling red wine, rich blood,

from full vases.

We traveled over clouds

and continents to the darkest

night in Bahia, Bacchic devotions

on cobble-stone hills, learning the city’s

darkness and her shadows in our hearts.

We hid some things, too.

I, divided and lost, struck blind;

converted by lightning.

You, with anxious thought turning in on itself

a look inward, untaken

a change unhappened, swallowed by medicine.

You, the drunk

I, the ascetic

You, the celebrant

I, the repentant.

Each, sinners,

both missed the mark:

That spot of beauty.

That point of truth

like a distant light

miles away

and we run still.

Maybe lessons are learnt

once we’ve forgotten to learn

no longer feigning control

of our spiraling saunters

only to  find

not what is sought

but in the seeking,

that life is sacred

lived a million ways

all forgiven

all rejoicing.

We had a good run.

May your run continue

healthy and true

may your steps to the kingdom

unveil the simple mystery

the kingdom is within you.