MagisterAnd this I gift to you my thinking friend -
A few and paltry words I've strung with haste
To show you that your friendship is an end
And a beginning; in it there is no waste.
In you I see the Way of Life brought East
Beyond the East to Lands of West where we
Have grown and walk and drink and dance and feast;
And yet in you the timeless I oft see.
Now call me fool, or child, or poet mad,
But in your searchings I find great delight;
In likeness of my fears I am made glad,
To know that others feel this strange twilight.
And so, good Scott, no koan would I give -
But merely thanks that you so fully live.
copyright 20 October 2001
by Earle B. 'Glas' Durboraw; Birmingham.