letter to a secret agent

Yo! my secret agent friend,

I remember meeting a shy young woman in art school who was the first to reach out and connect with me. I am truly pleased we are at least reconnected over the lines of web talk. I would really like to talk with you and hear about your life in San Fran, and see how you got where you are today. But, I don't want to feel like I am pressuring you. I am sure you've got plenty to deal with right now. My schedule is about to go crazy. Life in sunny florida is at its peak Jan thru May, so my free time gets unpredictable. Also, since Mom is to have surgery at some point (hopefully) I am walking the edge of fear and non-tranquility, waiting for the moment I have to up and run to Winston to await her return from anesthesia. I fear that just as I reconnect I will lose another friend. Is this an epidemic starting? Is it a viral thing like AIDS, that we haven't gotten our collective medical minds wrapped around? I know 7 people who have been treated for, are in the process of treatment or are being tested for lymphoma right now. You, my dear friend, are the latest. And after so long of not talking I am afraid that if we don't talk again I will lose something important and shining in life. Life is a jewel I wish to share the sparkle of. And your rays of light add to mine. Call me sometime.

"You're as loved as you were
Before the strangeness swept through
Our bodies, our houses, our streets --
When we could speak without codes
And light swirled around, like
Wind-blown petals,
Our feet
I've been scraping little shavings off my ration of light
And I've formed it into a ball, and each time I pack a bit more onto it
I make a bowl of my hands and I scoop it from its secret cache
Under a loose board in the floor
And I blow across it and I send it to you
Against those moments when
The darkness blows under your door
Isn't that what friends are for?"
--Bruce Cockburn