Oh you brilliant bohemian you!
To count the number of times you articulated
For me something shapeless.
Thoughts I’d had for years that evaded endlessly.
Every time I reached for them,
Slipping between fingers like smoke.
Yet you penned it in ink
Plainly for all to see.
Is that how you wrote so much?
Stealing thoughts of others
Transforming them into beauty.
The only kind of theft I’m happy to pardon.
How fitting, how terrible
That you should die, your blood turned to poison.
Your body wracked with pain
And your spirits lacked of wind.
As though life smiled on the grace of words,
And decided you’d had your fill of loveliness.
Thank you for doing it all the same,
You plagiarizer of my mind
You thief of dreams.
– Vagabond Prophet
– For Rainer Maria Rilke
Vagabond Prophet 