This man, I did not know him. Beyond my years, beyond my compass of awareness and intellect. His company I was never in, but he was once a boy, too, once unsure, once unaware – forever questioning. I was in my late teenage years when I first found him. I thought his views were rather pathetic, rather sad. (“I used to think they were so boring, now I have arrived at last.”) What a way to spoil the sureness of time beyond [our] time, but I persevered for his voice spoke with assurance and commitment. It seeped. Too much time with him and we’d weep. I grew with his voice. Every word forced thought or judgement or shape and then a reshape. My world evolving with his hand [I assure you of no intended pun]. He now wanders through moments which will test his abounding courage. He won’t fall to bended knee, although should he, such a moment will be his to be had – a moment suited to just the lead character of the scene; not a moment for our rewrite or direction. Grasp it. Squeeze it. Start an argument with that which grows within and you’ll bounce in celebration and campaign again, my [unaware] friend.
[Steve, I salute you. Christopher, be well. ]