Old friend it's now been more than fifty years
since our paths crossed
I still remember well
the Chinese bookstore
Kyoto 1969
you've hardly aged since then
not so for me
now into my fourth marriage
and behind me
the suite of griefs and joys
mostly the latter
of family life and friendships
a career that never quite took off
and some occasional
successes in the world
and through it all
the words you jotted down
not exactly on the fly
but on the many rivers
your duties had required you to travel
and that flow and eddy
through the landscape of your lines
words that have helped sustain my little faith
the tenderness with which your gaze once followed
a trail of blossoms scattered by the wind
pink jewels lying nestled in green moss
and how you singled out a spider’s work
storm-blown and emptied of its prey
now holding in its mesh a cluster
of bright pearls
the many words you found to speak the world
that you discovered for us always
as if for the first time
and so I write this note of thanks
hoping to reach you
across the span of centuries
to say my thanks
for the still glowing blossoms
the raindrops' glitter
and the midnight drumming
of rainfall on the river
that flood of words so resonant
with the beauty
and the wonder of it all