Omar Sharif (1932 - 2015)
One by one they appear in
the darkness: a few friends, and
a few with historical
names. How late they start to shine!
but before they fade they stand
perfectly embodied, all
the past lapping them like a
cloak of chaos. They were men
who, I thought, lived only to
renew the wasteful force they
spent with each hot convulsion.
They remind me, distant now.
True, they are not at rest yet,
but now that they are indeed
apart, winnowed from failures,
they withdraw to an orbit
and turn with disinterested
hard energy, like the stars.
The Rank Stranger
I wandered again to my home in the mountains
Where in youth's early dawn I was happy and free.
I looked for my friends but I never could find them,
I found they were all rank strangers to me.
Everybody I met seemed to be a rank stranger;
No mother no dad not a friend I could see.
They knew not my name and I knew not their faces.
I found they were all rank strangers to me.
“They've moved all away” said the voice of a stranger,
To a beautiful home by the bright crystal sea.
Some beautiful day I'll meet them in Heaven,
Where no one will be a stranger to me.
Author: Albert E. Brumley
So much beauty. So much pain. Delicious misery.
Posted by: Leslie at July 10, 2015 1:01 PM
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