Hasta Mañana
A home-made tattoo wrapped up in a scroll
(not of honey and milk, but indian ink)
saw 50 summers, but winters no more.
A cooling board smoothes away pain.
An epithet formerly scrawled upon walls;
a roughly-inked alias on a right wrist
provided the title required to assist in
identification of you.
I will search for your words in your final abode,
in rooms full of impacts and echoes.
In kinship beyond a stillness of pulse -
the caring continues to live,
the story continues to weave,
the enduring energy breathes.
May infinite amity, liberty, calm,
be granted to you on this day.
Hasta mañana, my friend
Martin Peacock
Wed 14th Dec 2011 11:24
Oh, 'enduring energy' - as a taoist/hopelessly confused reader of all things quantum mechanical I believe that energy cannot die but rather, be transformed into another kind. The mighty Bill Hicks RIP once said we're all just drops of condensed awareness distilled from the ocean of consciousness. S/he's still out there then.