In the early morning 

when people are few and I have time

I walk along the beach to the stream

and then follow its bank as ducks quack

not far and I meet an old friend who I know 

will be there.

We hug and our beings merge

 

My skin is hardened by age but my friend

is much older than eye and his skin much rougher

the rough becomes smooth as we touch and hold each other 

just saying hello

 

We meditate, how long for, who knows and in our silence my friend

takes me to treasured places of my youth.

When we return I, as is my way, talk and my friend listens with interest.

This morning he asked why I was sad

I explained soon I must move far away and could not visit so often.

 

My friend said he will always be there for me and I could visit 

as I am this morning or in a wave of energy or in a dream. 

he would be waiting.      

We held each other tight and I quickly turned and 

walked away across the grass so my friend would not see my tears.      

 

Oh did I not say my friend is a tree.      

 

I have never written anything like this before let alone shared it with someone.

It just came out I hope its not daft.     

PCC