Dear Richard: I should have told you
he was the sort of man who feared
guilt by association. He would eat
and play with Philistines but was doomed
to perpetually deny the fact in court.
I’m told he even kissed a few of them
and sat on far more than one of their laps.
Rumor has it he was like Saint Peter.
He ate with them in public places only
if he was sure Saint Paul wasn’t around
to notice the meal was neither kosher
nor inside the law. He was a man who could
appear to be Jesus one minute and take
on the useless look of a lawyer the next.
There were many who tried to love him,
at least until they could no longer face
one more regret for having let him take what
he did not know how to own. In the end,
there was nothing left to do but refuse
to let him steal anything that wasn’t part
of his own fragile dreams. Try to remember
that the batter of beauty rages in the temple
brass whether we witness it or not. And
don’t blame yourself for the silence that must
be. Silence always precedes a new song.
