Was cloudy with gentle hints of
Rain, the rain that comes down when
The earth is ready to weep, he arrived
1 hour early, he was well dressed in
a blue flannel shirt with black
jeans hoisted around his waist
Held by a belt, he sat close to the window
unbothered, time simply passed him
And his chase for a simple life, his
Eyes met mine when I approached the
Table he stood up to shake my hand, a
Handshake that became a hug that took
Me to my softest state of mind
You could smell the scent of cologne
On him it was a sweet scent of roses,
This was a different version I haven’t imagined
In my head, we sat down his eyes softened and
His body relaxed as he sinks back into the softness
Of his seat, I slowly watched the burdens he
Carried over the years slowly disappear setting him
Free, free like a white dove at a funeral, a funeral
That became a resurrection and renewal of a
Soul that almost caved under its own weight
We ordered coffee, he had his coffee with
A bit more sweetness that lit a spark in
His eyes, a spark that spoke volume without
A word escaping his lips, then with a
Gentle breath inward he began speaking,
One sentence that gutted my heart hard
‘I became what I needed years ago’
His eyes would sadden that told a
Different tale, a tale of a human that
Cared to deeply, loved to harshly, but
I couldn’t hold it against him his heart after
All the years of the past never changed, it
Held onto its values and hopes for humanity
Those sadden eyes represented a soul that
Knew the world wouldn’t be kind to
Him, but he held on for the little past
Version of himself that demanded the body
To remain alive, for the heart to keep pumping
Out its love without a price attached, for
The brain to step aside cause the heart had
Another goal ‘Be The IMPACT’ , An impact
That had a voice filled of the wisdom his
Eyes have collected from just observing,
Watching every breath, gesture or flick of
One’s hand, how one is treated and treats others,
The observations that filled his words with
Reason
As of right on cue the sun shined through
The clouds, and a flicker of joy swept his eyes
And returned to their softened state, who
Was this man? Sitting in-front me, how
Did he get up countless times when the world
Wanted him to crawl and to stay on the
Ground, how did his heart not rot to cruelty?
How did his soul not hang up the white
Flag of surrender? Who is this man?
Whose taste of music doesn’t match his
Generations music? Who is this man?
Who has a very different meaning of
Love?
…The answer is himself; he is who
Broke the mold, opened his eyes and
Chose to see the world for it was, saw
The dance of breaking hearts his
Generation was playing at, a game
He called ‘Lovers Russian Roulette’
A game he didn’t want to play, he is
The living answer that goodness is alive
In a world so cruel and off course, his
Solitude was now his friend, his energy
Became his intuition and guard, his
Peace silenced his footsteps, his wisdom
Became his knowledge, his imperfections
Became his brains functions and they all
Had a chair at his table
I took myself for a date, a date of
The past and present two worlds
Colliding to share a glimpse of what
Was being created of their respective self
Like a mirror showing what is, what can and
What will become and is becoming… if
You ever meet him, shake his hand and
Never let him go
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