Ohh, Fellow Reaper..
Has our Harvest
not been bountiful
this year?
We crossed
our sickles
not by mere
coincidence..
that much is clear.
As blindly seeing ones,
we know full well
there’s no such thing.
We saw the thread
of fates that bound us..
in a blink.

And have we not been
whetstones..
sharpening each other’s
scythe?
A safe and trusted space
for one another..
in which to lovingly confide?
To push each other
towards mutual self-growth?
To ponder mysteries
of life, and art, and love?

We cannot step
into the same old
river twice..
but then again,
that is no tragedy.
We shall be fine.
All-Father Kronos
sees to it
that we shall change.

One fact, however,
still remains the same..
our constant truth.
The Grimmest Reaper
shall continue helping you
to reap the sweetest fruits..
He’ll aid your Harvest
with his sharp
and trusty scythe..
whether upon a dimly lit..
or dark and moonless night.