Homecoming: The Glance

A glance
	that’s all it was.
The look of a boy in a salmon shirt,
	khaki shorts,
	high socks and tennis shoes.
He could have been anyone.
	He was anyone,
	Yet no one I knew.
But there was a moment,
	a glance.
Not from him
	nor to him
	but through him.
From my seat fifteen pews behind
	I saw the soul of a fellow wanderer
	traveling his path,
		just as I am mine.
Through years of twists and turns,
	choices and consequences,
	scars and memories,
	constantly plodding,
		constantly moving.
Yes, I saw a glance
	of a time -
	a time in the distant future
	when all travelers finally arrive
		home.
There is no celebration,
	yet, every moment is one -
	every moment of familiarity
		and comfort,
	every fond memory
		and deja vu
	emanate from this moment
		rippling backwards through time
		and forward to moments yet to come.
	A place you are known
		more than you know,
	And yet you feel a connection
		to the infinite -
	The infinite you don’t aspire to know
		but which you sense
		you knew all along
		and have been longing to find
			again.
A glance of a memory
	of a future time
		once lived
		in happiness and contentment
		looking nowhere else
		but to and in that moment.
A glance of the moment
	after the race
		when all is done
		and there is only congratulation,
		no condemnation
			from others
			or from self.
		Knowing all failures
			were necessary
			and are now finished,
			completing the course.
A glance of euphoria
	and joy,
		love unending,
			and acceptance unqualified.
A glance - 
	a moment in time
	wherein the curtain of eternity ripples,
	ever so slightly
		answering my questions
		and hinting at resolution,
	a shimmer,
		a glimmer,
			a glance of hope eternal.
A glance - 
	but was that all it was?

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