The Sharpening Stone

A mentor is like

The sharpening stone that

Strips the rust, useless

Revealing the edge of

The sword.

 
Thank you.

(Image by Ryan Kazuya)

One Final Rally

He takes a last walk
Down the paths that he made
And arrives at his final rally
Amidst sweet violin strains

Many years ago, he rose to the occasion
The rain fell heavy on burdened shoulders
Today the rain falls heavy once again
A final send-off as he lay down to rest

Forward from our darkest hours we shall rise
Grief and sorrow must then subside
Amidst the rain, we must all stand strong
And amidst pain, our lives must surely go on.

 

Thank you, for loving me

Today I just wanted to quietly return, because I promised you that I would, and then leave in much the same way.

Yet when I entered the place, you called out to me and ushered me towards what you had secretly prepared. The table was filled with a potluck of tidbits you love and the highlights were the performances by you, for me.

We chatted, just like old friends who hadn’t seen one another in a while, and I noticed how much wiser and more composed you have become. You filled me in on your lives and thanked me for the good-luck cards I’d made. Then we tidied the place together before you left.

What you reciprocated is hundredfold of what I gave, and I am humbled by it.