I looked for you all my life,

then found you in the chant

of the tangerine man pushing

his wooden cart down dusty streets.

.

I looked for you everywhere,

then found you in the eyes

of the peanut boy perched crosslegged

in his once white kurta stirring

warm weather snacks in a roasting pan.

.

I looked for you all my life,

then found you in the upturned palm

of a furrowed man propped on the edge

of a fuming street his plastic legs

upright beside him.

.

I looked for you everywhere,

then found you in the rough tongue

of a bibbed white cow sliding

a banana peel quick

from my offering hand.

.

I looked for you all my life,

then found you in the high whine

of a mosquito waking me from sleep

close as a lover whispering,

Sweet nothing, sweet nothing.

.

I looked for you everywhere,

then found you in your room,

a crowd at your feet.

You asked me, “Who are you,

the one who is looking? Who looks?”

And I traced my name in a field of dots

as it disappeared into the always sky.

.

So this is love, my memory sang,

The lane so narrow two cannot exist,

you nodded. Laughter erupted

like an earthquake. Chasms opened.

Hearts leapt into the molten place

where light embraces form

where what matters waits patient

as a mountain expecting a slow train

its cars dismembered in an accident.

.

Reassembled, I make my way

to the peak to view the lay

of the land of birth and death

the way the feeling weather moves.

I sit by an open window

and find you in the wind,

that whispers to my skin,

Sweet nothing, sweet nothing.

.

∞

.

From the Fall 1992 issue of Inquiring Mind (Vol. 9, No. 1)

Text © 1992–2021 by Nina Wise