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Ohbard and Pell meet up over lifetimes and dimensions 
for exchanges and conversations:

Ohbard
   my beard, it seems it wisps in grey
   and straggles age, unkempt alike
   and saddens my face dear Pell

Pell
   your beard, great Ohbard, why it does not wisp
   but states and in silver not grey, for silver
   is sought after and with age it is wisdom
   and distinguishes not saddens

Ohbard
   but wisdom lies in many ways and with many
   who gain their years as I

Pell
   perhaps, and more so, but some knowing
   is worth more than others

Ohbard
   dear Pell I wouldn’t say knowing
   for we can never know, not truly know
   until it is our time and then alas 
   we take that knowing with us
   unable then to impart and spread

Pell
   then if we do not know as we age
   do we merely guess?

Ohbard
   I wouldn’t say guess either Pell
   for what may be knowing is more a sensing
   a feeling and a making of sense to those feelings

Pell
   then, great Ohbard, do we not each interpret 
   those feelings and senses differently?

Ohbard
   impressive
   indeed we do dear Pell
   and that is why it is not law or fact

Pell
   then may I ask, great Ohbard
   how are you not afraid of your dying?

Ohbard
   to be not afraid of something
   we must understand it, for understanding
   reduces fear but Pell, my understanding
   is only at peace with me, it is only my residing

Pell
   will I understand when my time comes?

Ohbard
   that Pell is the worry of Man, for I do not
   speak for Man, I speak for my own settlement
   and that sees me unafraid of what will become
   after for I believe that my understanding shows
   a hereafter, a beginning again, and Pell, we shall
   have this conversation again as we have many times

Pell 
   but Ohbard…

But Ohbard passed in piece. Pell sat in quiet sadness by 
his mentor’s side, understanding that his mentor had 
departed and would now know for himself the truth of 
his feelings and senses.
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