Re: Thanks and a poem

[Barb_MSN <Barb_MSN@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Dennis....

Having you back amongst your List-family and friends  - and
sharing your thoughts in your own unique way (who cares if the
words rhyme or not , 'cause they're still the essence of YOU....)
makes my day feel right .... better... good.

NOW tho,  you're now not only a member of the ORIGINAL "Hole in
the Head Gang,"
but a CHARTER member of the newer, more "IN-and-with-it"  "BIONIC
Hole in the Head Gang!"

Now THAT'S a VERY select group, if there ever was one! <smile>

Welcome home Dennis, and every I hope every "tweak" of your
bionic-brain-thinggee" has you feeling better and better!!

With love....

Barb Mallut (aka "Future member of the "Bionic Hole in the Head
Gang") <in a year or so>
barb_msn@xxxxxxxxxxxxx




-----Original Message-----
From: Dennis Greene <dennisg@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
To: PARKINSN@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx <PARKINSN@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
Date: Saturday, October 23, 1999 9:52 AM
Subject: Thanks and a poem


>Hi
>
>I'm back after what so far seems to be successful surgery. My
thanks for
>your prayers and good wishes.
>
>Whilst not specifically a PD poem, the following was begun whilst
looking
>from my room on the morning of surgery.
>
>Sorry folks - mostly it doesn't rhyme
>
>Dennis
>
>
>
>Fifth floor - 5 AM
>
>It's 5 AM,
>and night holds day at bay,
>gathering darkness in a close embrace
>which fills the hollow places of this room
>with old emotions, fears, and shadowed thoughts;
>half seen half felt forerunners of the day.
>
>(Life lifts its head,
>says something,
>is ignored;
>I gaze out of the window,
>self - absorbed)
>
>Beyond the glass low clouds reflect the glow
>of orange streets,
>banked hellfire in the sky,
>and silent roads
>pulse with the predawn silver flow
>
>of headlights ,
>and the orange red,
>red orange blink
>of taillights, caught,
>caution stop go / caution stop go,
>in obsessive / compulsive loops
>of imposed behaviour.
>
>How much this view has changed since yesterday;
>then sunlight - spilling free across the plain -
>insisted that it must touch everything;
>and clouds were simply clouds,
>the roads were grey,
>and all this glowing flow
>of traffic
>was just one more half seen detail
>among a million on display.
>
>I have the thought that light is never free
>we pay for light with truth,
>and when  we see it all - and nothing ,
>we will be free - to chose
>between obsessions and the dawn.