I rolled into the desert with you on my mind.
More space than my mountain sea raised perspective could account for
It seemed there was enough room to encompass everything all at once
And indeed there was.
And you were there, in the screams and the cacophony of delight
That surrounded me.
A song for you playing on the stereo as a small black truck rolled towards an entrance,
it perfectly complimented the juxaposition
The austerity of a desert
The madcap laughs of it’s denizens.
I anticipated seeing you at every turn
And you did not disappoint.
Because you never do.
I carried with me a talisman of my father
And the spirit of you into a temple so grand and beautiful
It urged a realization of connectivity and humility
unlike any I had known before.
It gave me such hope and sadness to commune with you there,
Closer than I ever expected.
As I sat in front of the small altar I had built to you and my dad
I sobbed, Tears flowing freely, ably, comfortably.
Unable to see, taste, smell or hear
The only coherent sense, the ability to feel
So deeply, more than I ever have before
As far as I know.
Someone came and kissed the top of my head
It could have easily been you
you were that close.
And you always will be.