Because in his heart goodness is only complete when it circles back in my grip, he wore helpfulness like borrowed clothes waiting to retrieve with subtle pressure Because in his heart goodness is only complete when it circles back in my grip, kindness for him was never a simple act he was a coin he always expected to flip Because in his heart goodness is only complete when it circles back in my grip, he measured favors like banker counts debt precisely with interest tacked on Because in his heart goodness is only complete when it circles back in my grip, he gave with one hand and held out the other waiting until the balance was gone…
A deed done is never forgotten and a memory that keeps it fair, he didn’t ask for thanks aloud by he remember every deed he has sown A deed done is never forgotten and a memory that keeps it fair, you wouldn’t a tally sheet or feel a push to offer back the same A deed done is never forgotten and a memory that keeps it fair, but his mind carried names and moments like carved in flame A deed done is never forgotten and a memory that keeps it fair, he watched, he waited not in urgency but with time’s patient stare…
What we give without needing in return is never given in vain, the world called him simple maybe even naive but he never bowed to that claim What we give without needing in return is never given in vain, when people came asking for help he never checked his schedule twice he just opened his door What we give without needing in return is never given in vain, and when they thanked him with tears or turned and walked away What we give without needing in return is never given in vain, he waved either way unbothered and returned to his day…
Goodness done freely never needs to be claimed, there is another way-a quieter, richer lighter road to take Goodness done freely never needs to be claimed, one where you give not for the memory’s sake but for giving sake Goodness done freely never needs to be claimed, not for applause, not for return not to win favor’s game Goodness done freely never needs to be claimed, but still it nourishes still it grows wild among the weeds and maybe that small act began with your unspoken hand…
Watchwords: He answered only with actions never with words, never reason to grieve He had no fear of being used because he saw giving as a stream Flowing into fields that might never bloom, but still worth the dream He gave quietly, quickly like lantern lighting wicks asks nothing back no matter the cost
Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..
As and will always be reminding you to dream:
“As you are still the Master of your destiny and the maker of your dreams…”
