His Name Was Michael
At the first hearing of him, I anticipated meeting Michael.
Upon meeting Michael, immediately, I fell in love with him.
I was not deceived by the notion in me that he was special.
A giant of a man, yet a gentle one of many and varied talents.
His life was already full but flexed with elastisity creating extra space.
The number of his years seemed disquised by the youthfulness of his face.
Michael was ninty years old and possessed with a zest for life with years untold. The years of his sojoine though troubled times were seasoned by Grace.
Graced by his presence for just a little while, I longed for so much more.
But I was the honored one to have him visit and eat at my table.
A night most memorable that shall be stored forever in my memory.
Michael had a purpose with visions enameled with creativity and promise.
There was a fire in his bones fueled by an energized spirit that knew no quit.
Michael has left us now as we greive with a broken heart that in time will heal.
Going forward, we will reflect on him and be strengthed by this gentle man of steel. His sons and daughters, his grands and greats will remember, and feel him like a shield.
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2020
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