Rip Prince
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This is a short piece I wrote for Prince on the day he passed ... may he rest in peace.
Too many of late,
Especially for "us",
The last of the
Baby Boomer generation,
And the reality of our placement
In the flow of existence,
Is that the realm of oblivion
Reaches it's sinewy fingers
For all of us ... with
Greater frequency
Each day, it seems.
Those "larger than life"
Mentors and icons,
Whose creativity has
Provided the soundtrack
And accompaniment to our lives,
Are no less susceptible to
Mortality's cold kiss than
We are, though that
Pedestal we place them
On sometimes seems
Higher than transience.
As with each such a loss,
The sun will rise a little
More hesitantly tomorrow,
Its rays will settle a bit less
Warmly on our faces, and there
Will be a "void unfillable"
In the world of music ...
A sour silence, the
Remedy for which only
The ears of angels will
Strain to attend.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2017
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