WORDS FROM THE RUBBLE

All the years of the past and future
are breaking waves on a distant shore.
Hard to believe something
is still holding us all together.

There must be some day we’ll be reunited—
all these words from underneath
the rubble we’ll never find.
Somewhere along the way,
I forget to stop and rest by the fire.

I’m on the road to Ongwediva,
across the green and quiet countryside—
I finish conversations in my head.
Some day I will give back all these meaningless things.

I’m one sand dune among thousands,
I’m the lone cross in the middle
of the desert—watching over the dead,
nobody knows who I am.

Rain is pouring down, I’m a wet ghost.
I will leave empty-handed.
There is great hope for the future—
I hope to see my friend and shake his hand,
on the other side of the dry river.
No more separation, no more sadness.

(February 2010)