So many years ago our lives unfolded apart 'neath the arc of Old Toronto, that grey turtle slogging through imagination slow times. You, receiver of sunlight and cosmic vibrations, floating in oils of mist, humming streetcar tunes, sharing smokes and storefront philosophies with checkers champions, war heroes, raving radicals, wanderers in search of kindness and all manner of souls gripping the flimsy rails of mortal dread, blowing heart stone images like nothing's wrong, chanting the Divine Syllable on your way to sew dreamscape poetry in children's gardens, the flowering fields of Eternity And me, wondrously watching from shadow as you sipped metaphysical tea owl-eyed in Roselynn Chrystale's garden, swooning into her cosmic smile, gently laughing at me looking over my shoulder, skirting pot holes and pitfalls, dodging screeching piglets of doom through alleys, church halls, soup kitchens, junk stores and corridors of public housing, watching ghostly patrol cars scrape curbs for unclaimed souls, extruding poetry into academia's chambers In a city perched between light and dark I reached up, poised to leap, unsure where I would land yet anchored in the moment I heard your voice and my spirit listened. 1975