I am looking for you,
across the spectre of life,
through all the pain and
triumph that is the texture
that makes all I am or might be.
My search has been within
the years, in the moments and
the segments of time, coming
and going as I look in earnest
and sometimes think I can see you
in the distance smiling at me.
Shall I stop this seeking as a
futile act of a human fraught
with his own humanity, or
should I keep the looking and
be on this journey that Homer
did pen in his poem of long ago?
16/7/2022