Ah, to be young and anxious and full of want.

To be hot blooded and un-stopped,

Heedless of knowledge for the simple need of epiphany.

Blazing forth white-hot upon the worn path making anew the familiar and forgotten.

Shine, shine, O' child of mine!

Bring your light to those who look unseeing in the dark past.

The future will shine, for you are the light we send.

-Bill E

I originally wrote this one Feb 20 2016

Today and after

 As many of us sit in quiet contemplation on what this day means, Where we were, what we were doing, others mourn the loss of a loved one.

To those I know, two in particular, I send you love and comfort. Your loved one is not forgotten and their story goes on through you always. 

To the rest of us I ask a favor.

Be the Americans you were that day. Better yet, be the neighbor you were that day and after.

Be loving. 

Be kind. 

Be gentle. 

Be understanding as you were that day and after. 

Be the friend. 

Be the companion. 

Be the brother. 

Be the sister. 

Be the shoulder. 

Be the hero you were or needed that day and after. 

That day and after there was no black or white. 

That day and after there was no left or right. 

That day and after there was no immigrant or alien.

That day and after there was no straight or LGBT.

That day and after there wasn’t just American. For we lost foreign allies and friends as well. 

That day and after there was only one people.

That day and after there was no time for anger. That would come soon enough. No, there was only time for concern, compassion and action. 

Through the fear shone these things bright and bold filling my chest with pride and my eyes with tears. We need that again.

From this day and after be that person you were or hoped to be on that day. Be the hero we all need. But most importantly, be human on this day and after.

Your friend,

Bill.

NMS post

I started answering the question then it turned into a poem. Lol

Eternity. The sky is vast and stars never ending.

A jump, a leap. A take off you flew. Forever exploring, never sleep to choose.

Onward your journey it stretches so vast. An ending you seek? There is none, alas.

Single red eye unblinking looking deep into your being. Demanding fealty and understanding through your endless seeing

How long is the journey you ask? Forever is unmeasurable. Ask not again, for time is the task.

Poem by Bill Edwardson.

As many of us sit in quiet contemplation on what this day means, Where we were, what we were doing, others mourn the loss of a loved one.

To those I know, two in particular, I send you love and comfort. Your loved one is not forgotten and their story goes on through you always.

To the rest of us I ask a favor.

Be the Americans you were that day. Better yet, be the neighbor you were that day and after.

Be loving.
Be kind.
Be gentle.
Be understanding as you were that day and after.

Be the friend.
Be the companion.
Be the brother.
Be the sister.
Be the shoulder.
Be the hero you were or needed that day and after.

That day and after there was no black or white.
That day and after there was no left or right.
That day and after there was no immigrant or alien.
That day and after there was no straight or LGBT.
That day and after there wasn’t just American. For we lost foreign allies and friends as well.
That day and after there was only one people.

That day and after there was no time for anger. That would come soon enough. No, there was only time for concern, compassion and action.

Through the fear shone these things bright and bold filling my chest with pride and my eyes with tears. We need that again.

From this day and after be that person you were or hoped to be on that day. Be the hero we all need. But most importantly, be human on this day and after.

Your friend,
Bill.

Remembered Magic

Remembered Magic

As the day lengthens into night and we tuck little believers into bed, we see past holiday memories in our head.

Laying out the presents with tinsel and wrap, and cookies and milk as if setting a trap.

We once believed as the ones upstairs dreaming, like magic the gifts would appear for the wishing.

Now we have grown and cease to believe, for the veil was lifted and we felt deceived.

As night goes on and the work has been done, for now we are he the gifter, the one.

We close our eyes as weary as he, to dream for time like thee.

The morning comes soon, too quickly it seems, because little ones wish to see what's in dreams.

It is then as the wrapping is ripped and special wishes made real, that we catch some of that which we did feel

In our youth it was when we once believed, then again when we see little eye all a gleam.

That magic is not lost but passed on to the next, to keep something real that used to perplex.

For Santa is real because we make him so, not just for them but we also.

As we lay our heads down after the long day I hope we do hear, the pause on our roof of eight tiny reindeer.

And in our sleep we will hear the call, Dash away! Dash away! Dash away all! - Poem by Bill Edwardson