Piano Man’s Heavenly Waltz

The cards are up, the dance is done
A silent breath carries upon it a soul for the masses
As ashes fly wildly, they cannot ride the gusts and return slowly below

In this goodbye, as so many before
The dance partners collect amongst the heavens
To show the newcomer an eternal tune with which the waltz can begin

Though expected and the experience familiar
An inner, involuntary sense of abandonment stings as harshly as the first
Your heels kick upon the cloudy dance floor, cotton tufts drift as snow
Souvenirs bouncing upon the living with ash as cargo

This snow fall on such a summer day is a gentle embrace with a dusty trail
One day my dance care will fill no more, my stay in this centuries-old hall complete
Humbly, I will wait to twist wildly amongst the golden tops of clouds to my own eternal song
Yet guided once more by old familiar leads


In loving memory of Gary, a man who showed loyalty, strength and charisma to his last grain of sand.
I am grateful for the memories and the stories you shared with me and that you had so long after diagnosis to continue bringing heart-warming smiles to all you knew. My words from the post in November, The Piano Man, still ring true – no matter your place above or below the cloudy dance hall.


Weary Road

Mind numbing travels lead to the same old fork
Notches upon the tree trunk show my constant return
Ankles are caked in mud, my pants ragged with holes
Feet rest tenderly, bloodied and blistered
And as the humid dusk approaches
A decision to be made in the fading light

A left of pure chance, optimism for a place weary may rest
Each step cries with contact of stones and dirt
Last glimmer of sun
Nothing reveals beyond the beaten road
More trees, more distance
More trials of determination to a place on no man’s map

Lie upon dead grass, thorny weeds to stab meĀ 
Crickets are chirping incessantly
The worst lullaby to my mind so paranoid
A moon should illuminate some hint of comfort
Hazy vision halts nightmares of vicious beasts

When the body does rise again, muscles are rusted
Bones crack ominously
A bed might comfort me soon, and if such
Grateful slumber might guide me to a restful eternity