There yet is a place we call Callahans,
where souls can just share up a brew.
Be it pleasure or sadness or anger,
the undying flames will stay true.
In toasting and tossing we mingle
things real with things in animation;
Much truth is revealed in our reason.
So much more in imagination.
No timbers, no shingles, no doorstep,
mark the bounds of this pub's real domain.
But the minds and the hearts of the patrons,
are the bricks of the soul that remains.
We all wish for virtual places
to be perfect in every way.
But as long as our needs are so varied,
We will all walk with feet made of clay.
As the church may be known as the Body,
and the body, the sum of the parts,
So Callahans lives in our spirit,
and the spirit remains in our hearts.
-- KathyC, September 1994 |
