For those who have lost dear extensions of themselves:

An ever-present well of grief

Transmuted into forms of relief

Spell the sounds and shift the gaze

On this path of Love in a pitch-black maze

Grief is love in a veil

With so many secrets to tell

These very parts that I berate

Are also mine to Love, to celebrate

Grief is a well

Of discovery

Of utter isolation

Of expectations being questioned, obliterated

Grief is hell

In an age bereft of storytelling

The essence of those we’ve lost lives patiently, solemnly beyond our conscious grasp

The loss of this portal to Love is mine and mine alone to bear

Grief is discovery

A subtle transcendence of belief systems

An erupting compassion of the heart

Indeed, this rippling love is what I will forever impart

Thank you, Luke.

For exuding a wisdom well beyond your years.

For caring so deeply.

For pushing me to think critically.

For gently prodding me to question authority and our governing systems.

For challenging my and others’ philosophies, especially your own, from a place of curiosity.

For subtly giving credence and acknowledgement to my strengths and latent potentials.

For your deep guttural belly laughs.

For your unique swagger in your thrift shop threads.

For taking pleasures in the little things.

For standing your ground.

For your stubborn reticence.

For being a wonderful son to ma.

For being my Brother and my best friend.

For staying strong until the very end.

Thank you for continuing to teach and flow through me.

Happy birthday, Luke.  I miss and love you deeply, every day.