In Memory of Cecil Percival Taylor (1929 - 2018)
And now, and now — and now, dear son of life! The fatal hour wanders through the door Beyond the eye of hope and breath of strife; For here, deep laden, heavy evermore Your life again, between the blades, I see: The ever, ever so eager love benign Convincing me of natural liberty: But heedless is this heart to that raw sign In my all-crucified and patched-up heart From the pit of hell to fiery mountaintop, That he who, you in truth, designed his art As utter joy interpreted through bop Should sail through blackest sorrow's deepest worth To love immaculate and softer birth. Henry Lyman

 

p.o. box 30122 tucson, arizona 85751 +1 520 326 4400 fax +1 520 326 3333 www.blacksun.com