Recently, I’ve been drawn to the wonders of a little place called the library. A bit over a week ago, I made an emergency family visit back home in the Bay Area. When not attending to family duties, I spent my downtime at several libraries around the neighborhood. A newfound appreciation for them lifted me up as I spent several hours surrounded by shelves of organized books.
There is something so quaint about the library. And given to this new age of constant media overload, it was such a relief to stay away for a while from all that noise.
While there, I waddled about and found all kinds of books that were of interest to me. Walt Whitman, T.S. Elliot and Pablo Neruda. I sauntered back to my table flooded with books in my arms.
It was a refreshing kind of fun that YouTube videos, video games, or socializing could never compare.
You see, when you discover the spark that urges you to go at any length to pursue, any past time indulgence could never suffice!
So here is a little poem I’ve been reflecting on. It is from “Random House Treasury of Friendship Poems” edited by Patricia S. Klein.
Take Care of Yer Friends
Friend is a word that I don’t throw around
Though it’s used and abused, I still like the sound.
I save it for people who’ve done right by me
And I know I can count on if ever need be.
Some of my friends drive big limousines
Own ranches and banks and visit with the queens.
And some of my friends are up to the neck
In overdue notes and can’t write a check.
They’re singers or rompers or writers of prose
And others, God bless’em, can’t blow their own nose!
I guess bein’ friends don’t have nothin’ to do
With talent or money or knowin’ who’s who.
It’s a comf’terbul feelin’ when you don’t have to care
‘Bout choosin’ your words or bein’ quite fair
‘Cause friends’ll just listen and let go on by
Those words you don’t mean and not bat an eye.
It makes a friend happy to see your success.
They’re proud of yer good side and forgive all the rest
And that ain’t so easy, all of the time
Sometimes I get crazy and seem to go blind!
Yer friends just might have to take you on home
Or remind you sometime that you’re not alone.
Or ever so gently pull you back to the ground
When you think you can fly with no one around.
A hug or a shake, whichever seems right
Is the high point of givin’, I’ll tellya tonight,
All worldly riches and tributes of men
Can’t hold a candle to the worth of a friend.
—Baxter Black
Soul Smile 