Which way do I turn to see you?
Is there a single direction,
One compass point, to follow
To your memory?
I know that you exist.
Do I look up to the heavens?
To spot you among the stars,
Residing in the ethereal, gleaming city
And yet so very far away
In space and time.
Do I look down into the earth?
That place where your mortal
Remains lay beneath the cold
Permanently etched granite,
Held in suspension, resting, waiting.
Do I look into the middle distance?
And in the unfocused, not seeing,
Hope that you materialize, vital,
Uncompromised with all we are accorded,
Fully you in the not seeing, not thinking.
Do I look within my heart?
Into that gaping chasm
Rent so wide and deep,
There is no descending or crossing
Without risk of further loss.
Do I forsake these yolked orbs
And listen to the metallic
Ticking of the Universe cooling,
Hoping to catch some echo of
Your presence bouncing off the infinite?
And then from around a corner,
In a taste, a smell, the fractionating
Light, you are there, held by the most
Trivial and unexpected perception,
Until an instant later you are gone again.