The Moon Walker Poem by Ronnie Gardner

To someone I never knew but felt he like part of my home
Those sunsets listening overseas as though they were my own.
Then the Singer sang: Why, why, why tell them that it's human nature
why, why, why tell that its human nature....
Each flow a glide or stroke of the pen, Each stroke an elaborate flow of the wind, each wind a glide of the Again, Tell them that its human nature. Notes carried on wind pipes married again to my furthest imaginings. Practical is sheared to the land of the eternal which no longer wield is hand upon us in his song. We are called back the master's song and called back to where we belong a song of song beyond the eternal. Now he walks the moon for real with skill looking back on us without losing speed, gaining, gaining cosmic surreal a gift no longer for us......but for the next millennium. He moon walks on solar glares unawares of past flights moving on to the God that cares. I miss you Michael already.