Don't mourn for what was;
there's languishing, recoil
in dire recalling.
Seek an austere rejoicing
in ghostly angelic absense-
a purified presence, a whisper
of that lion hearted voice
urging heartfelt action and
biblical fluency:
"I believe,
therefore I tame the world's
clamor, chaos, inanity."
Then behold -
transfigured by ordeal,
a different, difficult friend.