The Gospel of St. Thomas

This is the meadow by my house
I can’t pass by and not think of you

Nothing happened there to remind me of you
Of any of you
Your home wasn’t nearby
We never sat there together, brushing mosquitoes away in the summer
We never had dinner at the cafe across the street
We never drove the ribbon of road past its tall grasses
But it always takes me back to you

You are always with me

You exist as part of me, inextricable
No matter how far away I run, who I turn to
Where I go or what I do
How many stones I turn

You are always with me

The Gospel of St. Thomas, author unknown


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