David Lynch

He has passed through the red curtains now.
Crowned in clouds he stared the weather down. 
His kind heart couldn’t bear to tell Los Angeles what was coming.
His tired lungs couldn’t utter forth the pain he saw for the city bathed in light.
A man from Missoula and nowhere at all.
Rendering the unknowable with the ease of breath.
His work asked questions for the sake them.
Expecting us to come up with the answers.
Such staggering faith to have in us.