Magister And this I gift to you my thinking friend - A few and paltry words I've strung with haste To show you that your friendship is an end And a beginning; in it there is no waste. In you I see the Way of Life brought East Beyond the East to Lands of West where we Have grown and walk and drink and dance and feast; And yet in you the timeless I oft see. Now call me fool, or child, or poet mad, But in your searchings I find great delight; In likeness of my fears I am made glad, To know that others feel this strange twilight. And so, good Scott, no koan would I give - But merely thanks that you so fully live. copyright 20 October 2001 by Earle B. 'Glas' Durboraw; Birmingham.