you were still when i found you so i picked up your body carefully,

as one would handle a crumbling manuscript from the thirteenth century,

with kids gloves – white vinyl gloves - and i placed you on my shoulders

and we walked and walked across great neon oceans

through cities with skyscrapers bearing over us like tidal waves of slate grey concrete

over searing hot sands that added thick, cauterised flesh to my feet

up and down the mist drenched mountains, through paddy fields and endless arable expanses

and through it all you never felt like a burden

your body , hardly a whisper, felt like a chiffon scarf

or maybe a faded star

then we reached the pristine hamlin pool and its stromatolites

and there i placed your frailty into the water

the bioluminescent ancients fell on your body,

found the tiny holes in you and filled you with light and warmth,

so much warmth that the blood returned to your jaundiced skin,

so much heat that the still water began to steam and hiss

and i cried then because somehow i knew it would be ok

and even as you opened your eyes and told me you had seen our lord

the glow faded and the air returned its chill