| It is very well to wish for another, to wish for love to the depths of the soul, but it is quite another thing to find that your wish is true, that it has always been true, and to live in the fullness of this knowledge, that you are not alone, 'this is so hard to admit,' he felt, walking in the rain, he said to himself, 'I think I am going to find something that is just over the edge of the horizon, but what if this is not a question of horizons, of distance, at all?' 'What if that which we look for, is that which we know? And that which we have? And how can it be any other way?' He walked under the rain in the falling light of day, and he walked until the rain stopped falling, and the night rose into the sky, and the moon found a way through the clouds, and he walked on by the light of the moon, and all this time he wondered, if it was true that he had anywhere to go. But each footstep took him farther, and deeper under the darkness, and as he walked, he began to sing, he was singing to himself, he was singing of himself, but this does not mean he was the only one listening, and this does not mean he was the only one who heard: hey I, hey believe me I stayed awake for so long hey I, hey believe me I stayed awake for so long, after you did I know I will follow but I never know how this life brings tomorrow but I'm missing you now hey I, hey you tell me I stayed awake for too long I chased light past the crossroads I stayed awake past the sun, not like you did I know I will follow but I never know when come time, come tomorrow I guess that I'll see you then time to time I look for the answers as though the questions were mine on and on we look to tomorrow for what we never could find still I know I know I will follow and, and I guess I know how this life, this life's not tomorrow, ah, no it's here with me now still I wait for the love to cross over and bring me home... It is true that our whole lives are with us, that our whole selves are with us, and that we are with each other, but this would not be so if we did not know separation, if we did not know time and travel, and a distance from home, because these too are a part of who we are, these distances are a part of the whole of who we are, and this is why we say, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, and today, today, today... He kept traveling that night, and he did not know how far he had gone, and he did not know how long the night was lasting, but the landscape had become the landscape of a dream, and his footsteps fell upon it, even and steady, with a long traveling pace, and after awhile, he looked above, and did not name the stars... He did not name the stars, and the cardinal directions fell away, silently, and the constellations returned to the old world from which they had come, and the wind still blew, and the stars were still in the sky, everything was the same, he felt, except for himself, he had crossed a line, or had not drawn it, and he was gone beyond the horizon, but he was still there... There are no maps of this place, he thought, and will my feet leave any mark on the sand? And is this still a road that I walk on? Or is it only the way I walk? Does anyone remember here? Is anything remembering? What do such words mean anymore? Do the stars still fall? Who then will replace them? Who will see what is missing, and what must be done? And what must be done? He could not remember his purpose in coming here. He could not say that he had ever had one, only that this had been the way he had come... He had walked away, and he had come away, and here he was. He was here, where we are now. And he kept traveling, he left the edge of the world he knew, and he walked into the canyon, the paths crossing and re-crossing, the walls steep and then shallow and then steep again, he walked on, and he saw a light here and a light there, beside him, like cracks in the canyon walls, like sparks from a fire, and the more he walked the more he saw, the stone was shining, giving dark mirrored faces to the sky, catching the starlight, and letting it go again... And he thought to himself, 'how beautiful...' and then he saw her... (next page...) |