I weep in the midst of the lack of thee
On stranger days than this or foul.
I am no shepherd, no modern Maccabee,
No Mayflower set to sail the broad Atlantic
Nor a hermit glued to the sacred mountain.
Just a man who trembles in fear.
The brave do not evade fear,
Do not live a half-life, but confront
& overcome time's mischief.
I will not find you in mountains or valleys
You no longer walk the forest floors.
We meet in memory, pale shadows
Linked in life & death. 
My first sight is the final sigh of your caught breath, 
Oh, my friend of the burning heart,
Speaker at night, treasured, always.