That’s what friends are for. . .
The years on the calendar, like scrabble pieces, have only the meaning we give to them
I’ve been tattooed by a blind Vietnamese woman
I’ve chased love, further than I should have
Chased it with everything I had
And then some
Went months without food
Slept in the rain
Worked jobs no one else would
Watched unspeakable horrors
Rode in parades
I’ve seen gazelle run into the sunrise
Watched snow fall on fire
I’ve sat idle,
Swinging my ankle
On docks by the sea
I don’t have any of it figured out
And I’m still here.
Some of us learn the hard way
Some of us don’t learn at all
Still, we hold the door when we can
Not all of us can make it alone
Not always
That’s what friends are for.
- father luke
