Two old men at ease under a banyan tree share musings of philosophy, their darkest nights, coldest days. Was Nietzsche right? Did life amaze us with frightful beauty? Did we survive precious trials to reap rewards, treasure we could never find without misfortune as clever guide into a promised land? Magical lovers to share wondrous ecstasies, dared fantasies come true. Sons marching off to war, a father’s pride. That sickening loss and horror when they died. Derision flung from socialites on fallen streets, defeated. The dismal sight one becomes once all hope has retreated. Before and after, that haunting laughter never ends. Yet, faith can be replaced; better friends may follow; true amends may allow new destinies to form. Deafening nightmare, desperate storm give way to rainbows, peaceful dawns. Two old men, weathered, withered, wise. Listen, be risen, by the music in their eyes. Suffused through gentle loving smiles, echoes of poetry inscribed upon the cave walls of their minds.