Walk in Beauty

To my children. For obvious reasons.



To my mother who carried me into this life and whose last act was to show me how dignified death can be.



To a music teacher who taught me the most important fact that I know about music. (And, for that matter, about life.) That “my” song does not come from me but through me. That I am really just a medium for something that is already there, waiting to come forward.



To someone who did miracles to my voice, simply by listening to it. (It could use a miracle right now, but such miracles do not come easily by.)



To those women who showed me the honour of wishing to give birth to my children, perhaps the nicest compliment that any woman can give any man.



To someone that I could not give any protection because I knew much too late that she got severely attacked because of her connection to me.



To a witch who suggested that my light may keep burning brightly until the end.



To someone who flatly refused, when I advised her to step away because she might be in danger while being close to me.



To someone who reminded me that it may be a sin to not use a special ability which you have been given.



To a friend who supported my idea of planting a tree and gave me a nice opportunity to do so.