This poem is about walking and thinking, trying to find answers about the past.
Early morning wanderer,
I Search for truth in color and light.
Perhaps in water
To find some mirror there
In which to gaze.
Reflecting on my life
As some great mystery
Some knot that only I can untangle.
“You have to loosen from the outside in.” I learned in scouts.
There are clues
People met as a child,
Whispers overheard at bedtime.
A child must wonder
But never ask.
Now I long to reach back in time
Awaken each relative asleep in their graves
Sit them down and say
“Look, what happened here?
What did you mean when you said
Or I wouldn’t?
Or I shouldn’t?
What were you saying when I came home from school early and suddenly the conversations froze?”
I want to shake them and say
Why did you die without leaving me a word?
How could you?
How could you have lived for seventy years
And have no diary,
No note scratched on an envelope?
What kept it all securely locked inside?
The river flows on and doesn’t speak
I see my face now reflected in ripples
The total face of a thousand pasts
Converging on this present moment
This knot I struggle to untie.