It’s been a while since I wrote anything. This is for my friend Allan Orkins Jr., who took his flight September 12, 2015.
For you, my friend, I have to write this song.
You’ve left me, and I can not come along.
I’ve still got work to do, but as you know,
one day my book will close, I too will go.
We laughed and fought and cried a little too,
when we were young, the whole world was in view.
We knew a lot more then than we do now;
or thought we did, but we still learned, somehow.
You made your music, and I made mine,
in separate paths we toiled, did just fine,
you built your life while I built mine.
But someone gave us guidance all the time.
A little while ago, our stories crossed.
Once more we found that some things can’t be lost.
Your music will live on. I’ll try to sing
In my own way of what the truth can bring.
It’s your turn now to rest with saints of yore,
make music like you never could before,
and take your seat at that great banquet table.
I’ll get there too, my friend, when I am able.
Until then, you have carried to the skies
A piece of me; that should be no surprise.
And part of you will stick around awhile
as thoughts of you will bring again a smile
To those who loved you, for love never dies.
We die to the living,
and live with the dead,
and much more is understood
than can be said.
So we, ensouled as lumps of clay,
Spirits enfleshed for now, today,
Embracing every brief delight
Releasing, then, into the night,
Dance, we dance, through all the strife
That keeps our souls apart,
We mend within the dance of life
These holes within our heart.