Looking up in the Equatorial sky
the Southern Cross is there
giving me hope and comfort
in my isolation on this remote coral rock.

I feel the Southern Hemisphere in my veins
coursing through my heart leaving
an imprint of larger voices enticing
then repressing a wanderlust.

The light and dark that resides 
in this world is actually a tug of war 
with the ghosts that we know, 
visiting and speaking to us.

We all have ghosts and they
sometimes come at us, a cacophony 
of thoughts forcing us to listen and 
recognize they are still with us.

Sharing all that they were and all
that they knew in a roar of symposium
which, at times, gives us a fright, yet
we know everything will be alright.

I know such ghosts that were
suddenly vanquished from the 
road I travel, fervently filled with
every kind of memory of life.

And who we are and who they were
and how they miss us too. 

And that’s the real crux of the 
situation, is it not? When the past 
sneaks up on us…do we remember
or just walk on without looking back?

Reminiscing on the times we walked 
with these ghosts is addictive as we lose 
ourself on the road of “natsukashi” while time 
on our hands ignites a spark of nostalgia.

Yet it’s all fleeting…passing before we are aware 
of our thoughts that contemplate that concept… 
I wonder…Is life really that short or do we 
just take too long to start living? 

And what do our ghosts think about 
our lack of speed of life? 
As I stand here on a coral, almost
paradise, rock with the sky above… 

and the Southern Cross 
lighting my way to make that start 
for her… for them… for me…
Message received. 


© 2022 Gregory Vessar. A Thousand Miles from Kansas. All Rights Reserved.