The Promise
We pursue forever the one we will become,
the one beyond, the one that our desire
creates, happy,
once past this terrible light of the present.
And we behold him there fulfilling
his promise to be our very selves.
Often he is seated before the beloved sun;
but always his back is to this road
we have been traveling.
With no future, because the fullness of time
is with him.
We know, each morning, that today we will not
be who he is. And at last,
when we die, we see him turn his face,
there, far away, as if to bid us farewell.
[Translated from the Spanish by Rhina P. Espaillat]