Flight of the Thief

Standard
Flight of the Thief

Dave Edison – “I’m desperately trying to figure out why kamikaze pilots wore helmets.”

I have been trying to figure out why I have felt so down for the last couple of days and then it dawned on me that I always get sad around this time of year. It was a few days before my birthday 23 years ago that my brother passed away. I always get a little sad and I still miss him. One would think that after all this time I would forget or the pain would somehow be less, but I don’t and it isn’t. My brother, for all his unhappiness and sorrow, for all the reasons he chose to leave this life that I will never fully understand, for all his anger and raging at the night, for all of this he was still one of the most intelligent and brightest beings I have ever had the honor to know in this life. I hope one day in our next life or the next I am honored by his presence once again. Even though he chose to leave this life he taught me so much about the value of love and how deeply it can wound. He taught me to value the love I have of those close to me and to cherish every moment of everyday as if it were your last. He taught me the value of life, even in his chosen path of death, it was a lesson I valued and took to heart. I love you Michael Todd and yes, my darling brother, you are still in my thoughts and you still come to me in my dreams.

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO
THAT GOOD NIGHT-Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Advertisements

One response »

Answering Machines Need Love Too, Please Leave a Message after the "BEEP"

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s