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
