Lost my friend Cory this week.
he went by the name Pie.
I called him 3.14
I thought it, clever
Every good man needs
a nickname.
Lost 3.14 and not really sure why.
I don’t want to know
when someone dies young.
Regardless of how he went
3.14 was always a friend.
He was a poet with a pen.
Anyway I lost my friend.
it’s fall now
And the weather is cold.
And the leaves haven’t fallen.
Yet.
But when they turn gold,
They turn beautiful
But that’s because then they wither and fall
and turn dead.
But every leave falls from the same tree.
They become the soil and the seed.
They make the oxygen we breathe.
They unite as family no matter color or creed.
The green leaves turn gold and become part of the never known.
But while you are gone
your seed grows.
The wind blows.
The crow calls.
The sunshine lights the path.
The science makes the math.
The flow takes a step back
to remember all the memories we had.
The ocean will
never stop breathing in and out
Do you know what I’m talking about?
This world is infinite.
There is no way out, and even if your gone…your in the ether.
You don’t believe? then I’ll be the believer for you.
See the stars in the distance.
We grow infinite.
Blessed be the days we walk on this earth.
Hold our friends close.
Breathe in the air, and hug the dirt.
We are all
one

in verse.

 

Jason Wright is the founder and Editor of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.