One Day

He sits in the wide door to his father's house,
playing with toys,
crudely painted soldiers with gilded helms,
gleaming in the sun.

His nurse tells him he is a prince,
will be a king some day, and a warrior;
his mother stoops, whispers,
tells him of his father who is king,
long lost, long sought,
longed for …

One day, she murmurs,
lips soft against his sun-warmed hair,
one day—a world full of longing,
echoes of an endless sea,
all encompassing.

After, he will always see her thus:
standing in the empty door
with her eyes turned outward,
hear the murmur reflected
in every lineament—
one day.

It will cling to his shadow like the sea,
pace at his heels down every road
of the dream long held to, pursued
through the length of years
and breathed into his heart
with a brightness of sun motes, dancing
in that long ago doorway—
one day:

One day.

Australia Post

The location on the postmark
looks Aboriginal –
a smudged box number
provides no assistance.

I search for you in the gaps
between internet
and dog-eared telephone books,
the drift between continents,
listen to echoes,
bounce off satellites …

torn open,
your letter
lies unanswered.