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Before me sat an angry young man,
Confused and wounded.
A soldier fighting too many enemies
And not know who they really were.
Before me sat an angry young man,
wanting his way in all that he did.
And not knowing what path to take to find his way in the world.
This young man,
reluctantly tried
to keep his armor from getting scratched by me.
Me, a worthy opponent he knew not what to make of,
let alone believe.
He struggled and fought and tried every trick.
And flashes of magic seemed to finally come, though sparingly at first.
A stumble, a trip, but still on his path
with book in hand, soon beginning to understand what it was all about.
Here sat before me
A handsome young man,
believing in miracles when he could remember that they were all around.
This young man, who had walked behind me,
unable to trust or love,
struggling to walk on the path,
was soon by my side.
We walked hand and hand
as fears were conquered and dreams became more real.
This angry young man is no more.
He opened himself up to all that Is
and his spirit began to soar.
This striking your man now knows
each day, that the greatest battle to fight is to Be each day.
Now god and miracles are not foreign land.
And strangers and enemies do not exist,
for we all are One,
no enemy left, except the past,
which melts away with each passing step.
And now this man
has become a soul friend.
Someone to be proud of
and stand by until the end
No longer his enemy,
no longer his guide,
blessed to see the
miracle of his growth and the wonder of this man on his journey.
By: Jennifer R. Stevens,
for all my dear friends who have died of AIDS long ago and recently.
And to my only and dearest brother. . . You are not forgotten.
