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OF WISE MEN...AND ESKIMOS
He was always talking about life and love.
He loved Autumn leaves and winter snows.
And he loved to share thoughts of philosophers,
of wise men…and Eskimos.
I loved listening to his stories…
for when he spoke his eyes would glow…
and my favorite stories throughout the years…
were those of Eskimos.
He often talked of birth and death…
saying…that's just the way life goes…
He’d ask, “Do you know whose view of death I find enchanting?”
I’d answer…”Would that be the Eskimos?"
He said when Eskimos look to the stars at night
they often smile and sigh
for they don’t see the stars as stars…
they see openings in the sky.
Openings from where, on the other side of heaven,
a loved ones light shines through
to let you know they’re safe and happy
and watching over you.
His stories…now a memory.
his eyes long ago lost their glow…
but when I search the stars at night…
I think of him…and Eskimos.
and when I find a certain star…
I will sit back, smile…and sigh
for I know he’s smiling down on me
through his opening in the sky…
And I’ll remember how he talked of life and love
of his love for Autumn leaves and winter shows…
of how he shared thoughts of philosophers…
of wise men…and Eskimos.
