I sent the poem below to Ray on the ocasion of his 82nd birthday, I received a lovely reply letter and have both the letter and the peom framed on my library wall, just to remind me of how his words have touched my life. I share it with you, that someone else with better talent may do the same on his next birthday.
(The format is not preserved - it should be read in center justified format.) A Birthday Poem for Ray

This day I wish to send a greeting to a friend of mine,
We have been friends for such a long, long time,
And though each the other only briefly met,
We as friends can share tears of joy from words yet
Read, or re-read and cherished anew,
And with each reading, our friendship grew.

Born of small town sounds and sights and fears,
With dark ravine echoes to savor later in years,
Of strange creatures made real by imagining,
Captured in words to share with others dreaming,
Who then heard and saw and knew his boyhood fright,
And learned to love the dark, as he Switched on the Night.

I cried with the Dwarf in the mirror maze,
As he tried to see himself larger through gaze
At a magic screen of glass and shape,
Only to be tricked and then to gape,
At a smaller man he could not be,
And the laughing lady went on laughing, alone by the sea.

I felt the lonesome call of fog horn on pier,
As child I fished and it bellowed when fog came near,
And knew first hand why a great beast would come as if called by mate,
To circle in sea so cold and dark and stay and wait,
To hear a sound from eons ago made by man to warn ships that past,
And believe that another has answered its call with - Beee Ooooh � at last.

I have laughed as Junior made his annual rising,
Summoned his lady friends, then had an unsizing,
Cooger and Dark taught lessons that in a circus of delight,
Can also be Something Wicked that comes in the night,
And the loves and fears of humankind are not felt only here,
But Martians can love and look at humans with fear.

My friend has spent a lifetime asking �What if�,
And says that his Muse cannot be coaxed up in a jif,
But must come from his feelings bottled as fine wine,
Fermenting �till ready to share, each in its own time.

I am glad to know my friend, Raymond Douglas Bradbury by name,
Without sharing his friendship in words my life would not have been the same,
For he is a poet who with metaphor and simile has cut a place on the shelf,
And is now very comfortable up there with the masters of literature himself,
I am sure Collier and Dickinson and Melville would boast,
That he is their friend as well, but I still love him the most.

Happy Birthday Ray


Written by Philip Trask
August 22, 2002

Good job, Philip! I enjoyed your poem and all its references to Ray's stories. I'll bet he enjoyed it, and I'm sure you treasure his letter like gold. I know I would. Aren't we lucky to have found someone so talented and inspiring? Many people go through life and never get turned on (I hate that phrase, but hopefully you know what I mean) by a book or author like that, and I feel sorry for them.

I enjoyed the poem, also. I also liked that you had references to some major works in there.

Imskipper's comment reminded me of a quote by Thoreau in the chapter, "Reading," in his book, "Walden". This chapter is a great one to read on reading and what it is about, but the following short quote is the concept that came to my mind:

"How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book!"

I know that a new life was opened to me when I read Farenheit 451 in 9th grade. A friend made me read it, I then went on to read all of Bradbury's available works, went from there into science fiction, and from there to literature, philosophy, and theology. Reading F451 in 9th grade changed the direction of my life and I have never gone back.

As I read the postings here on this board, I think the real legacy of Bradbury is not how many books and stories he's written; it's how many hearts and minds he has turned on through his use of language, his imagination and creativity, and his phenomenal story-telling skills.

Phillip:

You captured the spirit of Bradbury.
What a wonderful compliment and gift....

Philip, your birthday poem tribute to Ray was terrific.

I had the opportunity to tell Ray at a tribute to him in Long Beach, California last October what he and his work meant to me. I'll try to repeat it here.

Almost 40 years ago, a wise school librarian handed a bored 12-year-old boy (me) a copy of a book and said, "I think you'll like this." I took the book home, sat under a tree in my parents' back yard, and began to read. That book was "The Golden Apples of the Sun." I don't know what Isaac Newton felt like when that apple fell off the tree and conked him on the head, but it was probably similar to what I felt that day. Spaceships, dinosaurs, baseball, time travel...all the things I loved, told in a magical way I had never read before. I was hooked. I immediately sought out and read all of Ray's books, and have been a Ray Bradbury reader and fan ever since.

I heard Ray speak a few years ago at a public library. During his talk, he urged that everyone wake up each day "hyperventilating" with enthusiam about something in their lives, which struck me as a wise and wonderful way to live. Well, it's Ray's writing that has always made me hyperventilate, and for that I (along with several million other fans) can only say, "Thank you!"

Maybe Dandelion ...
...can download all the letters and greetings and poems any of us write...on this forum...and send them all one bunch to Ray, by his birthday. About two weeks away. What say, Dandelion?

This is my plan, IF I can get my printer properly up and running!

Bonne Idee.

Ray, dude, keep on writing.
Cheers, Translator
---
that's about all I could tell him.

Cheers, Translator