He slowly turned and I felt cold,

A face so new and yet so old,

The image touched my soul.

This storyteller with his eyes

Spoke volumes, words which did entice

In tacet tone, and gentle loll.

He spread a warmth without a name

He told me why he went and came.

To teach, the way in peace to live,

From deep in wisdoms caverns dark

His eyes on journey did embark.

Therein signs were called forgive

And I followed in his visioned path,

Not wishing to encounter wrath

But, hope of learnings I knew not.

No time was wasted in his mind

As he taught, what all should find

This teacher of the gentle kind.

Though he moved on to pastures new

To teach the way that wise men do,

His words..... I've ne'er forgot.

.

(c) ZYDHA HART 2005