Tuesday, January 25, 2011

And Yet

Today I came upon

The path

You and I
Once walked
In a midwinter reprieve
When
The wind swept the
Snow
Descending from the giant centennial redwoods
In
Clouds of sunny diamond dust 

Your tiny hand in mine
You looked up and said:

"Papa, why is the sky blue?"

If I remember the question
I know not
The response I gave you

It took

I hope

The shape of
A lullaby
A nonsensical rhyme
In the form of a
Cloud
A silly unscientific answer filled with musical words

Maybe

An untruth
Some pontificating realists will quickly claim

But you laughed
And your eyes shone

Like they do today
When you speak of your own dreams
And
Life

Living
It

Full steam ahead

As it should be

You do not ask me many questions any more
As to what or why something is what it is

You found out
In your own losses
In your own pain

Why
Sometimes
Gray replaces blue
And the sun stays
Hidden
For days that become weeks

And yet

You guessed that

We can carry the weight
Of Absence
Or Disillusionment

And slowly trudge through
Winter's snows
To reach
The promises of spring

Copyright 2011 Alain Millon