I look to the horizon with a spyglass,
Trying to discern what’s there.
A small child waits beside me,
And I clutch her hand;
She grips my hand in return
While clinging to the fabric I wear.
We have never been apart in all our years,
Ever since we first met.
I glance at her every now and then,
Look her full in the face,
See the wrinkles that line her eyes
And the pale complexion she shows.
Every so often we converse;
Her voice is still and quiet.
I have to strain to hear her words,
But she has to hear mine as well.
We talk about the days gone by,
The ones she’s living now
While to me they are events of the past.
And once our conversation is over,
I return the spyglass to my eye
And stare beyond the horizon.
I wonder what it’s like over there,
What lies in wait for me.
I imagine myself among those shores,
Wriggling my toes in the sand.
But the time has not yet come,
And I still have a child to care for.
I won’t ever let this child go,
And she knows this,
And adheres herself to my side.
I have been told to let her go,
To leave her with those who will care for her
In ways I never can.
To look around me instead.
But she looks at me with those wide eyes
And my heart is swayed.
So she stays with me on my journey
To beyond the merging of above and below.
And someday, someyear, the horizon
Will come to me, and I to it,
And at last I will know
What was waiting for me.