Tuesday, April 20, 2010

You Know Who I Am

Commanding the stage 
and the fine musicians 
bestowed with the honour 
of accenting your wisdom 
you spill your honeyed words 
into our eager consciousness s
erenely smiling like a holy man 

In your seventy-fifth year 
you sing your psalms and stories 
with the voice of a God 
but soothing now, no questions asked 
but an acceptance that there are no answers 

You were the crutch, t
he mainstay of my thoughtful youth 
a comforting validation 
that someone more austere than I 
could strip away veneer 
and see the sewers and the sunsets 
the sinner and the sainted 
and cosset them in blankets of words 
rendering them timeless 

Thank you, Leonard.


1 comment:

Angeline said...

Beautiful, very touching and invoking latent sleeping sentiment with a velvet touch.