That they felt
So I sat
And sat
And pondered.

How does one measure?
Is it in years?
Seasons?
Congealed blood, salt-less tears
Or wrenched intestines
Forming an unbroken link across
The belly of the Atlantic?

I followed their gaze
And saw what they saw,
I hoped
Lived and breathed and laughed
As they.
Inhaled and Exhaled
And learnt;
I thought.
Listened and listened…

As sunlight and shadow chased their tails
Over crest and trough
At my fingertips
And over Hills and valleys
In the distance
Early one clear, sparkling morning
That God had truly made one of the gems
In his crown
I heard and saw and felt and smelled
All that creation had ever known.

It was then I knew
What they had
Intuitively perceived from boyhood.
The sun adjusted its grip
And pulled itself up over
Another horizon.
A lone migratory bird
Of unknown species
Deafened the silence in an operatic warm-up.
It came on the wind
Cool and clear
Sweet to my understanding

Of myself as well

I knew.

Smiled in my complicity:
Bowed head and aching back
Returned the present task
Of mending the dream-catcher’s aspirations.