The walk through desert

was many miles,

each step a day,

and my legs ached

from the weight

of my body,

all the dreams of you 

a manifestation

I could see and touch

(if only in my

imagination) for

you were real to

me, a child to father

before I was a father,

and I had to trust

what I knew but did

not understand: you

were carrying me

even now my child

who loved, so loved, 

the world.