The formal year 1 date, and today I shall release you of all promises but one, and I shall let you go to the space of the four directions, to the glorious sunshine and the green and the mountains you loved so much, and to the word, spoken and unspoken, written and read in all your languages, to drama and literature and marching numbers and erudite philosophy I don’t even try to understand, but crisp and without need of that magnifying lens. And I shall release you to the wind and the rain and the million and one stars in the night, and to the brilliant sunsets over water, and images of places never seen but on TV and you’d remark “what a view” and to intricate melody and to Rashid khan and to stories I’ve only heard, of night long concerts and weekend trips to any place on a whim… and I release you of all promises but one, that in this endless cycle of soul paths and nights and days, that we shall meet again, and I shall guide your step again, and again I shall know your thoughts without your framing them into words. Adieu, and see you soon, or how else shall I live?