For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
Sorry to hear about your friend.
I jugged and pulled the rope on Jensens, didn't think the wind and rain would relent again this season, and everyone telling me I should pull it. Now I regret it. Who knows what tomorrow brings?