In dream nourishing light I’ll look for you, away from the center, on the crowd fringe, holding a tiny girl’s hand.
You'll sing to her, and she'll repeat the words, uncontained, leaping inside, as your time unfolds to your mother doing the same, to her mother, patiently outlining the way to a mountain, illusory to such young eyes.
Ascent is a dance, halfway, a struggle, kneeling on the peak, an invocation.
Unfolding our years now, I walk the mountain, trying to arrive at the cusp of your slipping away.
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