It was raining, and I was walking.

Away from you or towards you, I cannot remember.

It has only been a year, barely a year, and I find

That I have forgotten a lot of things about you.

The curve of your lips, the texture of your hair.

Too quickly, I find myself forgetting the lines of your face,

And the dip of muscles on your back. But that day,

I was walking away from you or towards you,

I cannot quite remember. Only that it was raining

And between steps, I knew that everything

Was changing. Somewhere, a waterfall breaks.

Somewhere, a river reaches the ocean.

* “Mid-stride” is part of the author’s collection of poems, Our Feet on the Word WELCOME, which won First Place in the last Ustetika Annual Awards for Literature. – Ed.

Pope Benedict XVI revamps inter-religious Assisi meeting


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.