There is a poet known as Raven, whose poems are shatteringly beautiful. Although I have read many, I have saved few, much to my dismay. She is a friend here. I hope that when she checks in she won't mind my printing of one of the few I have of hers..a treatise on friendship. Hers means the world to me, and, indeed is "rich and abundant". I think of her often.
THAT STRANGE MAGIC
Kindred souls meet.
as people move and stir each other.
A bond will blossom.
As friends are born.
That strange, unpredictable magic,
which we call friendship.
Colouring and enriching life.
As you learn from and enjoy each other.
Rich and abundant, with many nuances.
Not unlike a tree in the prime of its life.
You grow both.
Life would be threadbare without them.
But friends must breathe, like trees.
Allow them space and freedom,do not suffocate each other.
Too often this is ignored.
Otherwise things go awry.
Then, the wonderful magic will be broken.
Like those trees friendships can die.