A friend


Someone we believe we all have
is a friend, someone we can trust,
a person with whom we exchange
a powdering of special dust.


A man who thinks clearly suddenly appeared
On my horizon in all his elegance.
With a certain measured grace of manner
He approached the strumming flow of his day.

In his mind thoughts are made to be revered,
Words that forge meaning with a simple glance
About things that one tightens with a spanner
Or found roaming along the Appian way.

He does not sleep in tents nor cabins steered
Given that symbols and significance
In the design of a pretty banner
Place people in fixed roles within the play.

He deals with the theories that we all feared,
While looking at ivory towers in a trance
For the requisites to be a planner,
As though they were comrades for whom we pray.

Things tend to brood till the air has been cleared
By the advent of a new renaissance.
Being that the brain works not like a scanner,
Sights expand only by the things we say.

Orders render the numinous as tiered
Bands of names posing an extravagance,
That so disgusts a puritan tanner,
Giving a noble guest somewhere to stay.

Roma 11 3 2007