Our Own Marathon Man
You looked like anything but a poet.
All those years on the midway, guessing weights and ages
Had taken their toll.
But your spirit exceeded boundaries of the flesh
You were going the distance, to put it your way.
You claimed not to know where you were going
Yet you knew you were headed in the right direction.
Always searching for a new beginning, traveling on
With a spiritual passport that went beyond frontiers and horizons.
Issued by your soul and stamped “unlimited” by your giant heart.
So many times you read for us writers,
Reaching deep down into that old canvas bag
Filled with pages upside down and backwards, yet
Full of word photos taken by sad, but smiling, eyes,
Of your search for truth, riding rainbows and your own special wave.
You gave advice to the young and troubled.
Go to the ocean, you urged.
Learn from yesterday’s sunset, tonight’s stars, tomorrow’s sunrise.
For you, being romantic was not easy, just fun.
Fun that we fellow writers were gifted to share.
You took us to where winds serenade clouds,
Where when you shoot out the stars, you get a rainbow.
When you ring the bell, you get a dream.
Always living for the moment, glowing with the passion of life
But understanding that life is but a short story for us all.
We dipped in your oceans together
Melting to the rhythm of the wind.
While you urged on the music of silence
We glided to shore
On the magic of your poet’s pen.
At your last writers’ meeting you announced
I’m going away for awhile.
There was no concern because Traveling Stanley
Was frequently away, living in the magic of the moment.
Glowing with the passion of life, not thinking. Just feeling, you said.
I took note then that you were bent a bit,
That strands of gray hair ran in different directions that morning as you sipped coffee
While gardens and riches were ready for you.
Your bright light was fading but even then you knew
That your special star would guide you. Lighting the way.
But your guardian angel was overworked.
In multiple midways, in all the small towns, she had done so well for so long.
Feeding you with enrichment, nourishing your welcoming spirit
Knowing your time was precious, she allowed
The excitement of each second to capture you in life’s best embrace.
You told us in your work “Forever” that
You felt and saw things you did not understand.
That you were leaving but not forever.
With me today are your poems titled by Traveling Stanley, the Carnival Man, no last name given.
And now, having read them all, I understand your message about forever ….and the other lessons too
What you are at present is your afterglow of the future.
Don’t waste it.
I allow love to be my afterglow, you wrote.
But not seeking comfort in that alone,, you went on to
Other wisdom, found in your poem named “Beyond”.
There you bid us farewell, saying
Life is just beginning so I say goodbye
Going forward….beyond the beyond.
Basking now in your afterglow , we can wish you only
Heavenly traveling, Stanley.