Michael and I first met at a fairy gathering probably in the 1980s. I vaguely remember hearing of Michael’s death in January. But at the time I was quite ill myself. I hadn’t seen him in years when he attended a Billy potluck in Sonoma County. He was planning on moving back to Sonoma Co. from Santa Barbara.
Just tonight I came across a portrait of Michael by his nephew, Jasper Hathaway with a reference of his passing. I had totally forgotten so now I morn his loss 6 months after the fact.
He was a unique individual, a man with unending experiences and stories from his own life. He had so much wisdom and love to share, He shared insights that I might never have learned on my own.
I met Michael at a Faerie Gathering at Wolf Creek about 25 or 30 years ago and he was a special bright light back then. We lost touch in the shuffle of life but I always remembered him as a very vibrant light soul and an inspiration of a human being. He seemed to live full to the end, which is a blessing, but I’m sad he had to leave the party already. He always made a contribution.
The last poem in Michael’s book “We Came to Love” (1994):
EVEN IN DEATH
Stiff, desiccated, still arching away from the stem,
the branchlets of the maidenhair persist,
and crumpling single leaves
still spread curving out away from them.
Primordial pathways, and ideas.
How not absorb the achingly graceful logic of the frond
from within its cracklingly fragile khaki present?
Even in death so much of your life is clear.
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