I heard you left for a faraway place. Where the sunsets last for days and the clouds make love to the mountains. I heard you weren't coming back until the rains left the prairie lush and green. I guess you grew tired of the unchanging pace of home. Did outliving your loved ones become too much of a burden? Did the weariness of aging and inevitability of death bore you? Have you found a cure amongst the glass stone castles of your travels? I heard you're seeing the world, one step at a time. There's rumors drifting around here of mysterious strangers and terrifying antics. When they talk of you, they keep their voices low and the envy cloaked in awe. But darling, I've seen the panicked look in your eyes when we talk of home, as if merely whispering its name would summon you back. And I've seen the lost look when you ask about your family. I heard that you're never coming back, that you've finally decided on roaming until your shoes are mere scraps and your beard walks along the ground as company. And I hope you heard our hearts beating in time with your steps as you find your way.
