Sensitive, mystical Poët,
Your legacy lives on;
Stoned als petrified reptile
In the amber resin of your ageless words
ROCK IS NOT DEAD!
Only sleeping in the spirit of your generation.
How peculiar a twist of fate comes awakening.
The virgin student fascinated by disc technology
Finds camaraderie among your lyrics.
A lost soul reaches for a book of library poetry
To discover forgotten passions in your verse.
A collage of celluloid impressions moves an observer
To search beyond for remembered truths.
Death has no hold on your ancient powers.
Your time has come again
Myth ignited into flame.
Dormant seeds of great vision
Have begun to burst and grow.
The second coming of a generation,
Older, wiser, the struggle for justice lost in
Decades of the struggle for paper.
The realization of selling out what was ones held most dear.
Footsteps caught in midair,
A sobering look back toward
A fork in the road of life.
We should have listened to forewarning
The delicate thread of the search for truth
Once again unites our legions.
Years of obligations and promises behind.
One by one we “get together one more time”,
Dare to light the candle of long ago dreams,
Lift the staff of courage, sincerity,
The thing that is right.
Small contributions by sheer numbers,
Our dream of America – Proud, Free, Green
Seems less impossible.
I wish you were here to see it…….