Psalm for a friend
Our cups of tea and coffee
were as a fragrant offering to the Lord.
That brown liquid held more value
than incense and myrrh,
more than gold.
O friend, we shared secrets and spoke truths.
The worldly and the sacred
were as blood and water in our words.
You are to me as dreams to the daylight,
as a stream to a mountain peak.
Though you shaped me you are distant.
That which drew me sits silent.
Your memory is a sweet taste,
— A. Greendown (I wrote this)