FOR BEN HIATT
Like a hummingbird feasting on
the pollen of life
You walked the streets like a Samurai
With words sharp as a swordYou lived your life like a chess master
Found peace in the mountains
But never forgot the life blood
Of the cityRavaged by illness, you cut through
The pain with the precision
Of a surgeon’s scalpel
Your spirit left behind
In the grass in the leaves
In the skyYour words soft as feathers
Rode life to the end of the line
With metaphors that serenaded
The mind
Your memory dances with the wind
Becomes one with the stars
In a new place a new terrainIn the Buddha temple of life
All things die
But only the flesh expires
The spirit cannot be killed
Lives on in the heartbeat of the sun
In the words and friends who wait
To become one