Demigod in the desert

running to the ends of the earth,

will I ever see him again?

He hurtles through seasons and dirt

like a tornado in its element,

a magnificently terrifying force

blessed with the tenderness of

a deity in love

cursed with a mind

so fickle he leaves a trail of

splintered optimism wherever he goes,

searching for heaven knows what—

some Herculean errand to unearth

memories long lost and almost forgotten,

perhaps

to glimpse horizons exploding

in gradients of glittering gold and

salamander.

Once in a while

I pray that he remembers me.

But he moves with a pace

that defeats the speed of light,

blissfully unaware that

somehow in Stygian darkness

I still dream of his face,

his silver piercing scintillating

like a trail of stars,

a montage more ethereal

than waking up to early Christmas mornings

and imagining him still within reach,

in this ephemeral Elysian peace,

elusive as the calm on a weekend’s dawn.

Kathleen Pastrana lives in Bulacan, Philippines. She used to work as a speechwriter for corporate and academic events, and now she writes poetry in a house she shares with 40 rescued cats. Her poems have appeared in Banaag Diwa and elsewhere.