
Since then, I have contacted and visited with many friends and acquaintances who tell me that, although they have searched, they cannot help me find my friend JOB. I am now attempting to meet and work with new friends, so that I can help them with their needs and they can help me get along without my old friend JOB. Still, I search for him, at least three times each week...
Mick
The Story of JOB
Twas mystical times in the distant past,
In the dark, shadowed winter of my life,
When my old friend, JOB breathed his very last
Breath, and his loss pierced like a hunting knife.
More than mere friends, we were compatriots,
Inseparable during waking hours;
Sharing so much time, folks thought I was nuts,
And soon, I would be pushing up flowers.
But dear old friends soon came to my rescue,
And they helped make my old friend disappear.
They showed me the door, and what I should do,
So the door didn't hit me in the rear!
Yet, within a month, I missed my old friend,
For he made me feel both strong and alive;
And I grieved that our friendship had to end,
For without his support, I could not thrive.
I vowed to search and to find him again,
But he is elusive, so hard to find
That my other friends grow embarrassed when,
My questing words bring his absence to mind.
They know that I miss him, it's in their eyes -
A deep shadow in the dark of the moon;
And I hear it so clearly in their sighs:
They all hope that I find JOB very soon!
Mick McKellar
November 2009
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