Most of this post is going to be somebody else's words. An ongoing exchange on one of my previous blog posts put my brain onto a poem that I read and loved a few years back. So...I have spent most of the night going through my books, trying to find the dumb thing. (That is okay Tony, Melinda and Andy, I was up anyway and this gave me something to do!) I finally located it (and purged some books, which should make Karl a bit pleased). So...here is a poem on friendship that says so very well exactly how I feel, at this point in my life...
Will you be my friend?
Who am I? I am not sure.
Once I was a rabbit's grave and a basketball hoop on
the garage, a cucumber patch, lilac trees and peonies crawling
with ants. I was stepping stones and a mysterious cistern,
grass fires, water fights and a ping pong in the basement.
I was a picket fence, a bed and a maple chest of drawers
I shared with brothers, a dog named Sandy who danced.
Friends were easy to find. We climbed trees, built grass huts,
chased snakes - and we dreamed a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND? Beyond childhood.
Who am I? I am not sure.
Once I was predictable. I was educated, trained, loved - not
as I was, but as I seemed to be. My role was my safe
way of hiding. There was no reason to change. Now I am less
sure, more myself. My role has almost disappeared.
My roots are not in my church, my job, my city;
even my world. They are in me. Friends are not so easy to find -
and I dream a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND? Beyond roles.
Who am I? I am not sure.
I am more alone than before. Part animal, but not protected
by his instincts or restricted by his vision. I am
part spirit as well, yet scarcely free, limited by taste and
touch and time - yearning for all of life. There is no security.
Security is sameness and fear, the postponing of life. Security
is expectations and commitments and premature death. I live
with uncertainty. There are mountains yet to climb, clouds
to ride, stars to explore, and friends to find. I am all alone.
There is only me - and I dream a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND? Beyond security.
Who am I? I am not sure.
I do not search in emptiness and need, but in increasing
fullness and desire. Emptiness seeks any voice to fill a void,
any face to dispel darkness. Emptiness brings crowds and shadows
easy to replace. Fullness brings a friend, unique, irreplaceable.
I am not as empty as I was. There are the wind and the
ocean, books and music, strength and joys within, and the
night. Friendship is less a request than a celebration, less
a ritual than a reality, less a need than a want.
Friendship is you and me - and I dream a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND? Beyond need.
Who am I? I am not sure.
Who are you? I want to know.
We didn't sell Kool-aid together or hitchhike to school. We're
not from the same town, the same God, hardly the same
world. There is no role to play, no security to provide, no
commitment to make. I expect no answer save your presence,
your eyes, your self. Friendship is freedom, is flowing, is
rare. It does not need stimulation, it stimulates itself. It trusts,
understands, grows, explores, it smiles and weeps. It does not
exhaust of cling, expect or demand. It is - and that is enough -
and it dreams a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND?
(James Kavanaugh
Leucadia, California 1971)
Yes!
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