I have been 
away.
What can I say?

Except that, maybe 
you have too, haven’t we 
all, lost ourselves,
all our bearings,
signs we once thought we knew
scribbled over, what was it that it said there,
once upon a time?

What is this new strangeness
to which we are becoming
accustomed?

Can I continue to haul
my hopes along this wild path?

Will you?  Will you haul along beside me?
Or will you drop your dreams 
imperceptibly, numbed by the 
exhaustions, numerous and wailing,
hungry and afraid, eating you
alive?

Perhaps if we
sat down a moment, here?
yes here.  Bare scrub it looks, of course

it always does.
Rest, imperceptibly a stillness
creeps over
the pains, furies at injustice, which,
of course, must take hold, but must
not,
must not turn sour.
Stillness, friend, and rest
mere moments as a dew descends, hush.
Soak your wounds in wonder.
There is just enough

to keep going
til morning,
as still we are alive

I am away, yes,

but here