You did not ask for much, did not appear to want what was so commonly desired. You lived in your place, which was wherever you were. Compared to my restless energy, yours seemed calm. Next to you, resting in simplicity, I felt the shedding of urgencies.

Only now, a lifetime later, do I recognise the liberating signs of gratitude. It was not a paradise you lived in; it was a reality you acknowledged. This is my humble existence, yet it is my plenty. Riches, you realised, were relative. For you, the house at the end of the street was a kingdom. A universe you populated with the stars of your choosing.

Still they shine down on me.