A gathering of grave souls
Was called to order by its senior members—
The business of the evening was begun.
They met as always in a hollow tree
Carefully picked for the purpose.
Each of them had been a poet, painter
Or musician in a former life.
They gathered in great numbers to remember
What the purpose of their lives had been.
One of them would begin to reminisce,
Then their stories would unfold en masse.
Brave or craven, forbidding or all-giving,
Each of them had learned the art of
Finding beauty at the core of strife.
As their numbers grew, so too did their influence.
They became a secret source of inspiration
For the well of wonder hidden
In each soul who stepped onto the stage.
©2016 Michael Fraley
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