I haven't felt the pulverizing load
Bearing down during bouts of depression,
But under the weight of the world I've bowed
Teaching me charity and compassion.
When the voices returned you shunned the fight,
Carrying your burden you walked away;
Traveling gentle into that good night
I understand, that's what I want to say.
Now you lie, having received your pardon
From the ruthless torment of your disease,
Underneath the elm in Monk's House garden,
Finally finding freedom and release.
Of the honest, beautiful things you wrote
I thank you for leaving that lovely note.
November 2015
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