hi writers,

On our kitchen table stand an antique glass bottle. A drug company out of Baltimore, bromo seltzer, in raised letters gives the wide mouth blu glass an imtimate quality. The bottle stands the height of a mouse on its hind legs. Inside the bottle the stem brings water to the flowers and the four-star blossoms have opened and the first scent of lilac moves throughout the kitchen. When i let out a long exhale and then bring the power of lilac to my nostrils i am reminded of memories that are sweet. I am reminded how the things that are beautiful can be so temporary, a recognitioin that beauty is fleeting but like a river always arriving. I saw the seasons first dragonfly. He landed on a cemet drive way and I am reminded that soaring season is only a couple of weeks away. Amy moves about in a new pair of wedges. I have seen turquoise on her chest, i have never seen the same deep glow of blue and green on her feet. We move to madonna and I'm don't care how life is suppose to look.

i have had a scare. A fear large enough to envoke thoughts I have never considered before; the viewing my own funeral, becoming pissed mostly at all the things I wanted to do but my time was cut short. And without going into detail, after four months of wondering if this is what the end of the road is like, because I have been shown the inevitable, what death might look like, I have taken a step closer to understanding the mind and body that tires of the fight because the fight never goes away and well, you just grow tired and letting go seems like the best solution. I have shared a walk with the very old, I am closer to understanding the minds who have little time to think of all thing sweet because the pain doesn't go away like it used to. I know what a full life that has come to its end feels like. I think the old and sick would settle for a long hug and be given permission to let go as to be granted another year of struggle.

As it turns out, my condition isn't terminal. As it turns out, what i have experienced is a mock trial-run of facing the inevitable, death. Who am i when when I am faced with the possiblity of not being strong enough to endure? I lean over and embrace another hit of fresh lilac. Amy has been this kind of promise to me, this kind of sweetness. She has been blooming yet worried, neither too extreme in worry or too glossed in denial. She has shown me that love doesn't always need to know the answers. She has shown me that love is larger than fear. She has given me the space to be a jerk because i don't feel well. Would I be as patient? I don't think I know how.

With the recent rains, and with life sprouting from the land, I have turned a corner. I am being reintroduced to what energy feels like. The water has soaked into earth and a fire of all things has ignited. From the depths of uncertainty rises a phoenix. A gem-fired flame of gratitude. A renewal to what I remember, sweetness of beauty is fleeting yet always is alway arriving, beauty, once again, striving to make a difference...

i will miss you all this Thursday. My thoughts will drift throughout your conversation. I will be the dragonfly you are not able to see yet like the scent of lilac on currents, you will sense the flutter of my wings.

love,

ken