I waited…
to relax in the shadow of your smile, but we were never there.
At the bottom of the hill, commingling with time,
gathering flowers and planting seeds.
We were eager;
perhaps too eager to tame the ragged surfaces of the climb.
We were there, but I didn’t see you.
Half-hidden, swaddled in that cold, thirsty mist.
We were there, though never quite present in body or mind.
We merely hovered.
Rising above the water-logged clouds, buoyed by some distant dream and full of hope.
Hopeful perhaps that we could plough the hard surfaces of time
even if only to capture meagre harvests in sieve baskets.
I remember now. Yes, we were there, although we never quite fully arrived.
With our sights set high, we set out to get there, ambitions in tow.
Not so much to sermonise or convert, but maybe to persuade ourselves we could conquer the climb.
Where are the others; those old, tired, foot soldiers and the warriors,
camouflaged in forged smiles?
What became of the messengers, armed with Bibles and bayonetted muskets.
Did any of them make it?
How about the apostles, the discreet believers and lost souls?
We were there…
Just for a bit; but not long enough to defeat time, or to discover that belligerent enlightenment.
But, I think we founded legacies,
and left new paths for them to follow when they arrive.
In a sense, we were always there,
waiting, hoping, expecting, making sure our footprints were fossilised
and that their beautiful scars stood up as monuments to us.
Now, it’s time to leave.
But how, and where to, when they were never really there, and neither were we?