For Digby, Connie, and Devyn

Sailing

From the first time we met,

a light shone.

Not from the movement of your graceful hands as you spoke

Nor from the laughter dancing on your face.

But seeing it, somehow I knew that I was not alone.

You told stories of the cottages that held broken children you cared for;

the ones you so humored and loved.

Not pushing away their pain

Nor denying their will to heal,

You embraced it all and gave away your secret: a gentle spirit from above.

The sense of wonder upon our meeting,

knowing a special path was yours.

Not afraid to watch or wait for others to join in,

Nor reluctant to let them seize their own path,

I witnessed a shaman’s humility, filled with love for his brothers and sisters, born.

Our paths did not cross again for thirty years,

yet there was no mistaking.

Not the lilting brogue that rolled across your words,

Nor those sparkling eyes reaching out in invitation.

It was hope, Digby, that you gave me—first and always; a belief I was not forsaken.

Only now do I know that in this new, short time together,

why we, your friends, were filled with gratitude and wonder.

Not thinking about what we had to prove; just saying,

Nor troubled with whom we should be; just being,

You loved and honored us all, gifting us with your quiet thunder.

Thank you for touching me, and us, with your shimmering spirit and sense of hope, Digby. I will always hold you close to me. Sail free, my friend, sail free.

Kath Richter-Sand

August 25, 2013