Poem for Matt

The image is of Monument Valley, Utah - this is a glorious desert scene in the southwestern United States. The poem I have written below refers to a different arid place: Phoenix, Arizona. From the poem, the native people called the Hohokam were also referred to by early Navaho and Hopi Indians as "the ones who had gone before."

I wrote the poem June 28, 2014. Since then, many people have read it or passed it on, sharing it in some way. Since these words have meant something to them, I feel I need to share it with you here.

Poem for Matt

I will see you in the place where the Hohokam dug irrigation canals out of the desert.

You will appear to me as a saguaro one day, an ocotillo the next.

You will crush the creasote for me, so that its perfume rises.

You will circle the sky above me as a desert eagle, showing me the way.

You will warn me of danger, rattling your tail and slithering away.

When you see us all missing you, you will bathe our tears with healing monsoon rains.

When you become weary of our human foilibles, you will send the haboob to slow us down.

You will continue to change the people who knew you.

You will play like the wind, kicking cans down the road, hiding eyeglasses.

You will get your mother to wear a cowboy hat that came out of a dumpster.

You will remind people of what they missed, but not fill them with regret. They will learn to seize the moment.

You will rise out of your father's laugh, and live again in his sweet memories. You will remind us again what love is.

You will help another young lifeguard save a life. You will rip my heart out and replace it with a bigger one.

I will see you again. We will run and swim together in endless dreams.

I will see you again. We will hold hands and fly together into the sun.

-SLG