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I would be remiss not to acknowledge the deep connection I have had with Arthur Sawyers, who refused to back down from capital T truth, in whatever form he encountered it.

He was rambunctious, dramatic, and single pointed in his desire to live in Heaven on Earth. While he didn't stay around for its formal opening, he certainly helped to kick open the door for myself, and many others.

Following is a poem in 3 parts I wrote over 10 years, before and after his "moving on"


The Hunter (Part 1) - Video by Connect2Source

The Hunter (Part 1)

The Hunter seeks the invisible cord
That sets his universe right.

There is a restlessness surrounding him,
Disturbing most who meet him . . .

He tells me,
“I come not from this country, or the next.
In my land, the invisible one rules . . .”

I have seen him,
In the fading light of day,
Share whispers with a low-slung moon.

 

Upon what field does he gaze now?
Is he my progeny?
Or I his?
Is he the future?
Or the past’s decline?

I have seen the Hunter,
And have been decidedly changed . . .
He holds much to admire, much to avoid.

But as he brushed by me,
On the way to his freedom,
His hand accidentally touched my cheek;

And now,
Still,
Days later,

It is warmed by his fire.

-


The Hunter (Part 2) - Video by Connect2Source

The Hunter (Part 2)

The Hunter seeks Immortal Game.
There is a bonfire in his chest;

He cooks his body on the fire,
Slaking his thirst.

The ways of the hunter
Are mysteries to most men…
(And to the hunter, as well)

Something has brought him here,
Seeking.

Beyond safety,
Beyond comfort,
Beyond fame;

To the inner regions,
Unanswered, and Unnamed.

-

The Hunter: A Coda

A bridge between two kindred lands,
His annunciation remains ever clear.
He will move through the veils,
And set up camp for us ahead.

Upon the border between life and passing,
Life provides the solution to his Quest.
He must now become mercy’s living arrow.
A bird on a wire,
For all to see.

Stripped of flesh,
But not resolve.
Now stripped of life,
But not impact.
For the bridge still remains . . .

He prepares now for our coronation.
And leaves us each a question to answer:
Will WE assume OUR throne?

Bourne through ministrations of human love,
Rainbows herald his passing on both sides now.
Ah, Double Happiness!
Boundless Joy Arising.

His victory is ours.
He would not want it any other way.

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