friendly
dear friend.
that you still are,
even since i left.
since you sent me onwards,
taking new land.
i send greetings and well wishes.
thoughts exceeding
these words by hand.
since i’ve gone,
those beautiful mountains
i do miss,
and your friendship even more.
it’s time i share some progress,
happenings on this journey.
this latest spot seems funny,
camps i’ve not before.
i’ve found a small park,
green to escape the grey.
simple trails to stroll or run,
and cozy bench became my spot.
i’ve noticed a collection of others,
chasing behind, lurking around.
even joining on my quaint bench,
increasingly, until alone i’m always not.
sitting means these suitors crowd me,
so i take another lap.
thinking boredom draws them elsewhere,
thinking they’ll move along.
they catch me, join me again,
even if pace and route i change.
like losing a game of tag,
quickly, swiftly, they always come upon.
i’ve run a lot of miles now,
seems they’re training just the same.
i can’t lose them,
this game of lost and found.
i’ve risen fresh and early,
still they’re here, unweary,
like a relentless lead pack,
pacing course record down.
so now i write to you to share,
i need reprieve from running.
i pen this note on bench seated,
and they’ve come to sit beside.
i’ve heard their names among them,
Powerlessness, Hope- and Helplessness,
even Weakness makes appearance.
this relentless, intimidating crew,
is from whom i fail to hide.
i think you’d say receive the company,
introduce yourself ‘til strangers,
acquaintances become friends,
as it was, even this chapter begins.
after all, to this spot you sent,
knowing what i’d find.
i’ve grown to trust your taste,
so this will be good again.
forgive my memory,
this i now recall.
you mentioned Hope, Power, Helper,
and still others that’d be here.
funny you’d mention nicknames,
you were acquainted with these familiar.
maybe one day i’ll know the same,
welcome this company, increasingly dear.
with your blessing,
maybe i’ll dare,
invite them, show me local spots,
share time, tales long past.
i think i’ll let them squeeze,
shoulder-to-shoulder on my bench sit.
to laugh, to cry, to shoot the breeze.
i think we’ll be dear friends,
at last.