To Daniel Brick - I

Fellow worker in the fields where the Muse trains us in the war of verse. For verse must softly war on many things, on many mores, prejudices and more. The Poet Seer ever sad works slow; and suffering looms in his eyes as he bent rises from the arched back of work. Yet the Poet Seer gives life the meaning to our each very breath at times in magic and to magic, as he sings, rises. He (including she and they) has to. And Your verse to this be witness and more yet deserves. You tell me Master. I reciprocate; and all the things you said of me made me more humble in my sacred work. Continue, Master, in your noble work. A sacred duty that we both fulfill. A sacred fire that we kindle both.