The past is all around us.
It travels from earth, outwards
to space in a ripple.
Do you remember yesterday
when you laughed at my joke?
Look at your laughter, making
its way past the moon now.
And the summer when your
mother died? Look there…
-those are your sobs-
They are almost out
of the sun’s reach by now.
And there, by that star.
Those are your
first cries as a newborn.
I looked beyond that thinking
I’d find God, but all I saw
was your mother’s laughter.
DQ 10/29/07
