February 1, 2006

• The Daily News

  
  

  

  
  

  1  I went to the service for Mr. Rocha's father yesterday, and it was a beautiful ceremony, with his family and friends all around him, and the whole thing just moved me a great deal.

  
  

  2  We take so much of our real lives for granted, the people who are the REAL stuff, instead of the almost pretend worlds we cling to for whatever it all means.

  
  

  3  Sometimes it takes exact moments for us to come to our senses and realize the people who really are there for us, and not for themselves...

  
  

  4  Mr. Rocha's brother <I think> spoke at the end about how anyone who loves their fathers or their mothers must be moved by this, and it just hit me.

  
  

  5  Tell the people who are really there for you that you love them today. You will know instantly in your heart who they are, and it isn't necessarily the "me" people that often seem like they are there for you. The real ones will materialize, because they have your real heart.

  
  

  6  I'm not sure I really know what I'm saying today, but it's too late, and it's already been said.

  
  

  7  I'd like to cut it short today, and share a poem I wrote that kept moving through me as I stood watching the ceremony yesterday, with the guard, and with the American flag, and the loving family and friends all gathered.

  
  

  8  Here is the poem. Sometimes I just re-print it in times like these. So I send this out to everyone, and I send it with all my love. I love you all, everything.

  
  

  
  untitled

  
  

  there will be days of sorrow, cloudy and dense

  
  

  there will be days of heavy sighs, of a single blackbird ascending

  
  

  from the bare branches of a winter tree,

  
  

  and of the rain slanting across your face, as you stand bundled up

  
  

  to face the winter winds.

  
  

   

  
  

  there will be times of  reflection.

  
  

   

  
  

  there will be days of wet autumn leaves clinging to your shoes

  
  

  there will be days of dense sadness, of a car moving slowly

  
  

  down the rainy streets of winter

  
  

  and of the wet, falling over your eyes as you brace the chill with your

  
  

  collar up.

  
  

   

  
  

  there will be times of sadness.

  
  

   

  
  

  there will be warm breezes, even though it’s still winter

  
  

  there will be days of hollow smiles, of a cloud pushing slowly

  
  

  its way northward, across the tops of trees,

  
  

  and of the wet mists touching the redness of your face, as you look down in your

  
  

  sadness.

  
  

   

  
  

  there will be the consideration of other times

  
  

  there will be days of sorrow, cloudy and dense

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

                                                            11/5/98

  
  

   

  
  

  

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

  peace.

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

  ~h~

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

   

  • 3:01 am
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