My spirit moves slowly along the precipice
where the shale crumbles
and trickles down in rivolets of sand
I came to see my loss in rocky gorges
brown grasses bent low
a tree holding on the edge
and heard my life in the wind
as Albinoni's Adagio,gsypy violin
the haunting cry of a loon
the laughter in her voice
Sacred or secular? does it matter?
Theses testimonies of the soul are true
I move on the fringes of eternity
my friends are my vista through illusion
my morning light over monoliths
that drifts like shadow up box canyons
filters through trees and lightens my heart
we will meet again,this is my solace,my hope

Amen Jake, Amen! What a wonderful friend to have known! I can't imagine it's forever but I'm the optimist always. When I came on last spring, you all probably had been on for a while. How welcome you all made me feel. This is an unusual place--a spiritual place that has had it's problems, but the bond lives on. I see it in some of the new names and their feelings.As you say, the memory is always there. BTW- this is a beautiful poem you wrote.J:)
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Thank you J..yes I agree It is a place of the spirit a Cathedral where we can sing our joyful noise unto the world or vent a quiet fear..A grand place indeed......jake
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LOVE the poem, Jake!!!!
these lines ----
"Theses testimonies of the soul are true
I move on the fringes of eternity
my friends are my vista through illusion" ----------- magical!!!!
J, i checked out the poem & commentary ( sorry for being nosey ... ) ....... i don't understand. why she's chucking up her modem. is it because of the changes this place is going through? or just the whole thing in general? i've always thought that pen's poems are very avant-guarde. reminds me a lot of ginsburg ..... i hope she'll be back!!!! Drm