Mystical Knight Of Light - A collection of poems by T. M. Kolt
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An infinity of inner peace and balance rest upon the integrity of the way of the warrior knight. Through walking in love and wisdom our glorified supernatural body will blossom in faith and rectitude as a child of light. Through the grace of the Holy Spirit, as we walk as one with the spirit of truth, Bushido is the way of the warrior knight. This is my crest and the path I choose to follow. The one and only promise I have given to the Holiest Spirits, our Divine Father.
T.M. Kolt (Tony the Mystical Knight of Light)
Tony was born June 27, 1967 in Lewiston, NY and moved with his family to Florida as a child. He was a writer, a poet, a dreamer, a father, grandfather, a spiritualist, a lover of nature and an animal advocate. He was an insatiable learner, spending countless hours reading whatever he could get his hands on especially religious teachings, but his greatest joy came from teaching others. He was at times hot headed and quick-tempered but was also very protective of people, especially the underdog. From childhood through adulthood he didn’t understand how to communicate with the average person in the perceived “normal” way but was confident to stand up on his own, standing for what he believed in even if it wasn’t mainstream thinking.
Tony spent many years enjoying adventures across the country including traveling with a carnival when he was in his late teens. His greatest escape came from riding the open road on his motorcycle. While traveling he would stop where the money ran out, pick up and learn different trades, from handyman services to warehouse management, earning enough to start his next chapter in life. He would stay until the spirit moved him to start out on his next adventure.
Tony was a proud board member of Farmhouse Animal & Nature Sanctuary where he enjoyed spending time with the animals and meditating in nature. He believed that people were intruding on animals’ habitats and was happy to advocate for animals and the environment through the sanctuary. In his spare time he created beautiful Native American style art using scraps of leather, stones, feathers and branches, of which he would give away to people.
Acknowledging that he was not able to be a part of his children’s lives for many years, he was extremely proud of the caring adults they became. He often said spending time with his young grandchildren, who brought him joy, peace and laughter when he needed it most, was the greatest gift his children gave him.
Tony started writing at a young age. Most of his writings though, came during a stressful time later in his life, when he spent two years in jail awaiting a speedy trial after being falsely accused of a crime that he didn’t commit, exonerated and found innocent and after returning to his home in Florida where he was diagnosed and fought a three and a half year battle with colorectal cancer and Crohn’s disease. At 51 years old, Tony spent the last two months of his life living in a nursing home where he was determined to evolve and heal his damaged body. He wrote for the last time five days before he passed on 12/23/18.
Life is a battle, a war. They say that a warrior is judged by the nicks and scratches on his armor. My Dad’s body that we laid under the oak tree was his armor. It wasn’t clean and new, pristine and perfect. It was broken and dented, yet showed his indomitable strength not to give up. His spirit was strong. He was brave, unselfish and loved everyone. He tried to help every soul that crossed his path. My dad used to say “We are all fighting some battle, why not help. Why make things harder for them, when you have the same ability to make things easier.” I call this an epilogue because it reminds me that this isn’t the end of his story. Because my dad didn’t die, he is still here with us. We will carry within us, his love for every creature, his good nature and big heart, his contagious laugh and pure smile, his wisdom and wanderlust, but most of all, his compassion and love. It is inside all of us from this moment onward. We live every day with opened eyes and wider heart, to honor a man who hated no one, who helped whoever he could and who loved all. Clayton J Wakefield