I Have Sought You

I have sought you for fifty years. I have sought you in every room, in every meeting of new people, on every street corner, in every church and museum and classroom, in every bar and sauna and resort. I crossed the seas to find you. I tried to find you in Ireland, again and again, reading in each futile journey not a warning but a goad to greater effort. Next time. . . next time. . . what is important is to keep faithful. I don’t know what I could have left undone, what door I might have left unopened, what name I left uncalled. I don’t know how anyone could have been more faithful in the journey, more open to unexpected possibilities of fulfillment. I said yes those ten thousand times. And it has come to nothing. I ask “why?” but there is no more answer than when I was crying “where?” and “who?” It is utter bewilderment, utter bafflement.