In the early down on a peaceful day he left for the unknown horizon. May be the peace ley among the higher reality.

Had been a rough ride through Over mirages of life's glory— Some say true glory is found after or)e is gone. In living spirits from the cries of the souls that sob—

To see the departure‘of the blessed soul.

I was touched by the eternal flame an artist lit.

Kept my thoughts worm Made the meanings clear Of an artist s artistry and life.

He had made friends with the waves. Promised to reveal the secrets of the songs of the birds smell of the motherland Miseries of the muscled common man.

The long-haired Guru stretched his arms— the ones that would create history over canvasses of life's reality.

Pictures of the village folks He felt their cries in the bottom of his heart. They loo needed someone to show them respect Sketch their tales

Of being ruled and forgotten By the swelled elite of the city

It was a web he spun in our first meeting Little did 1 know what would happen caught in the admiration of a blessed soul. The monkeys and the dogs witnessed our bond As friends for life we shared the same thoughts— Wanted to visit distant lands in homemade boats. He would paint, while I would write always knowing the maestro was behind.

Will this broken pen ever know the difference?

I watched the sunset of his life found an ocean of lively spirit. That made me think Could not share true gratitude when we parted and said our last good-bye.