To Whom It May Concern
I'm only 79, but when I grow up I want to be just like you. Not Barack or "ole Blue eyes."
A "thought diver" like you. Your reach is               Â
"wider than the sky and deeper than the sea." Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
I tried to squeeze your life into a poem. Too constricted; your dance is too global. A book wouldn't do. You'd be crushed between covers;
your life "is large," you "contain multitudes."Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
Awakened by the robin's morning song,
you pry into the multi-layered atmosphere.
On your journey, you stir up leaves of curiosity, Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
of creativity, courtesy, and connections. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
You dig deeper ditches and burrow through            Â
steep hills, seek wisdom in darkness where
secrets and treasures linger in forests. You
sing the language of the whistling winds. Â