To friends

A poem.

The creativity of conversation,
the love of contemplation.
Dionysian natures be it,
oh fine muse and music.

When the tempests blow:
you are there as Gaia is,
to all her children of this earth,
creating such revelry and untold mirth.

When equanimity flows,
like a halcyon lode.
The time is impressed,
and all that is now is best.
the mind is at its station,
and you friend are here.