FRIENDS-
You may not see me, but I am not far away. You may not hear me, but I am only as close as a whisper. You may not touch me, but you will always feel me. This is where you'll find me.
In the calmness of a quiet spring
morning. In the songs we have loved over time, you'll find me in
music yet to be composed.
I'll wink at you in the dew on a
freshly picked rose. I'll tickle your nose in the scent of fresh
strawberries. I'll rush to your head in applause on opening night and
send a chill up your spine in the lake water you stick your toe
in.
I'll wrap you up in the blanket of a warm sunbeam and pull the
corners of your mouth in the punchline of a tasteless joke. I'll be
the solid stone that keeps your foothold on a hill and blow you a
kiss in a cool breeze on a scorching day.
I'll be the single bright star in a crimson sky that swells to a deep royal dusk, and when the night slips in through the cracks...I'll slide into your sleeping eyes and there we will dream the dream, float through fields, swim the leagues, and love the moment where once again we may embrace. You can find me in the warm feeling in your gut. Think of me and I will be the lump in your throat.
I'll be the single bright star in a crimson sky that swells to a deep royal dusk, and when the night slips in through the cracks...I'll slide into your sleeping eyes and there we will dream the dream, float through fields, swim the leagues, and love the moment where once again we may embrace. You can find me in the warm feeling in your gut. Think of me and I will be the lump in your throat.
Do you feel me?
I'm in the
laugh of a small child, I'm in the tear of a loved ones eye, the red
of a rose and the floating rings of a drop of rain upon a pond. I
whisper in a crickets chirp, the rustle of fallen leaves and the
chimes of church bells. I walk with you when you step in a piece of
glass. I walk with you when you run in a blind panic and hold your
hand when you are alone.
When you've all grown old and my
picture in your minds eye fades and is worn and you can't exactly
hear my voice in your ear...I'll still be there. I'll be that warm
fuzzy memory. If you need me just call my name and think a happy Eric
thought - there will be a sign of some sort.
When we meet again in
my neighborhood, I'll be waiting - arms outstretched to welcome you,
where I'll have been waiting to hold you again. Until then - you know
where to find me.
~Eric Joseph Holland (July 3,
1970-January 26, 1994)
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