Sensei, what did you teach me?
To sing serenely, with calm force
as wind across a pond.
To touch sincerely, with no aggression
the way mountain peaks caress clouds.
To craft delicately, with focus and vision
channeling rhythm from pottery spinners of ancient times.
You remind me to love infinitely.
I’ve had it in me all along, and you know.
I am grateful for all of you
in a way that helps me to be all of me.
Together, for a candid moment in time
My fire is your fire, mi amor.
Draw upon the warmth and strength when you are cold
let your spirits be lifted with the smoke
and your worries be buried ‘neath old ashes.
Our old embers will glow long into the witching hour
when rebirth rises from dusty piles
and sets the whole world ablaze
while a new dawns sunlight begins to blanket the darkness.
For we are just two old sticks, smoldering away.
Our limbs and knots fit together,
with space to keep the air afloat between us
as everything else crumbles and burns.
There is feng shui with our fire.
The pieces represent the whole.
May our paths cross again
only as love and light will allow.