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Maybe we are all holy ghosts;
fragments of gases present
in the newly born universe,
slowly dissipating ourselves outward
to the very edges of space and time
If you ever existed at all
I still think if I looked long and hard enough,
I could find your eyes, at the end of a telescope lens;
Disguised as twin suns in a nebula of a galaxy
Just one ectoplasmic storm away.
I suspect it is your voice I hear murmuring
Behind the bluejays of a morning;
Or the eery whistling around some buildings in winter-
Was it your hands that I felt, buffeting my hair?
I feel you've been everywhere, on this old world
Just five minutes before I arrived on the scene-
Though whether it might have been five hundred years
Or five millenia, it's difficult to discern.
Your touch cannot be eradicated
By the stony face of unexpurgated time;
By the unexpected turn, of momentary illness,
Or a mortuary's fiery furnace mouth,
Though it caress your bones, with bright fingers of flame;
For you must have been present
In the very first seconds
If you ever existed at all.
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