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CHANCE MEETINGS
I spied an old man along the way
With a tattered cloak
He called to me
Where are you today?
I looked upon him
and smiled
I am with Moondust
Of soft glowings
Of days that grow dim
Of fires that glow
and of journeys to know
He offered to me
Something precious to him
A wooden staff
and said….
Those who go in love,
are always free
Such beautiful wood
Handsomely carved
I did not understand the gift
The writings upon it
Nor understood
What can I give?
He replied
You already did
In small important ways
Those who go in love,
are always free
I clasped his shoulder
and shook his hand
Looked into his eyes
We will meet again
In a far off land
A man in his tattered cloak
Smiled gently ,
and said his goodbyes
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