Clearly, I did not get back yesterday to the blog for a second cup, and the ruminations about jazz et al are still brewing. Eager to write about those connections; perhaps tomorrow will afford more leisure for that.
Today is Poetry Friday, and I want to honor that commitment.
I have been so fortunate: a life lived with such good friends! So good are they, I think, that they are really undeserved, and I am often puzzled as to why they stick with me. (That is not false modesty; I am often puzzled but always grateful.)
This is a celebration:
Friendship through suffering,
a reflection on particular friends
We have not come here
nor do we continue here by an
easy way. “Yea, though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death.”
Though there is much laughter along the way—
ribald, silly, and joyous; it is the laughter
of friends who stand in the furnace,
flames stoked high, together,
trusting in the presence of a fourth
Friend. Through deaths we have
joined our paths and through pain. Through
cancer and depression. Through wayward
and prodigal children. And
if we laugh too much or too loudly at times,
it may be only, as another poet said, so
we will not cry.
We are together for
the surcease of sorrow, yet more often
for the pleasure of the company,
for such journeys can
be lonely and we have often traveled
far from home—and a good fire, good
food and beverage, good conversation and
laughter and comforting friends
along the way are worthy ends.