In Memory of Gene Wilder

How lucky I am,

To be born at the right time.

To be a small child,

Adoring Willy Wonka’s smile.

To be a young boy,

Seeing Young Frankenstein.

A character and charm,

Prevailed with my heart.

It was with his heart,

Gene crafted characters.

It was with his soul,

He made fiction into magic.

For magic becomes passion,

And passion prevails pain.

Arming us with his smile,

Unleashing our potential.

Eccentricity was his gift,

To think outside of the box.

His gift within my life,

Has led me to many solutions.

Unconfined to grey conformity,

My imagination soared on his wings,

And on the wings of possibility,

I help others to take flight.

So do not believe,

The rumors of his passing.

For the essential things,

Are only seen by the heart.

Carry forth his great smile,

In all the things that you are,

May the kindness in his eyes,

Live forever through our hearts.

Impressions

At Sid Grauman's Chinese Theater in Hollywood I felt a bit of the magic of past lives which graced this spot from the silver screen, practicing their craft to the extent of becoming legends, making impressions upon our lives along the way.  To that extent I did stand in the shoe prints of Dick Van Dyke with the prayer that some of the magic may help the ineptitude of my feet, as his charm has enhanced my ability to smile.

The greatest gift unto life,

Is how life begets life,

How hearts beat to each other,

Bringing souls together,

So that eyes meet for a moment,

Creating the real change of love,

Just a smile on the street,

A warm hand where we meet,

Words flee through the air,

Planting seeds of eternal trees.

The mind records impressions,

Which are never forgotten in life,

How much more then the soul,

Brings them unto heaven?

For seeds are always cast,

Yet the fruit seldom witnessed,

Though the planter always knows,

Whether the seeds are good,

Have faith that seeds of love,

Make beautiful impressions.