You never meant to find your way back.  Though you tried hard to convince yourself.  The things you thought you’d need, the patterns wrought, mercies bought.  Nothing made much sense after you came to center of the dream.  Finding nothing really matters yet everything means everything within the all and all.  Visions, pictures and puzzles undiscovered lay strewn across the floor, they don’t need you anymore.  Your mystery and majesty left behind for others to ponder, treasures to squander, both here and back yonder.  What residue is left of you but the pain and joy you’ve brought, the dance you taught and the little red necklace that you bought in a moment of sensitivity.

The laughter wasn’t real but diversion.  A hearty distraction from the absence of being oneself, no need for stealth hiding the fear and failure within success and song.  Watching that dance, the shaking, shirking with leprechauns lurking made slavery into silliness.  What are we but the culmination of our thoughts and actions, inventive, creative, destructive or divisive?  It is so nice to remember you fondly, so I choose to do just that.  The remainder that may be selectively dispatched is burden, never meant to be carried either during this life or into the next.  But meaning well and ending up in hell are not mutually exclusive.  You were mistaken about the glory of  your own performance.  Thought classically portrayed nothing mattered but your choice and confirming, faithful action.

We are all just men and though some be rich, endowed with mind or measure we face the same inevitable debt of time, nothing separates us from the poor of spirit or treasure, but belief in the Works of our Creator.  For you were a good, kind, brutal, honest, disillusioned, manipulative, giving and scared creature, descriptions that contradict, because my characteristics matter only if I am to be judged by the line and letter of some doctrine.  Then and only then could I pray in hope to have made the mark of a man above the judgment gradient.  But my goodness or badness have no countenance with eternity.  My measure is only memory of  the man, my belief in a Holy God is what allows me entry to that which I  do not and cannot deserve.  It is His Righteousness upon which I know my longevity guaranteed.  Not by deed but by Trust.

The time we spent was never wasted for it brought me to the sandal steps of God, but I certainly prayed to have greater convincing strength in leading you to the place of humility before the Throne of God.  If my failure in that one great task had the power to condemn me then I would also seek to favor myself in success.  I am but a lampstand, a mirror, a light in the darkness, shimmering, glowing ember wrought from the flame that kindles and promises warmth, direction and hope.  My job is to love and leave the rest to the Lord above, just as I must leave the pain of your passing at the foot of the cross in exchange for peace and the joy of  having known you for so long.  In Jesus’ Name.