gypsy

the wind is calling, and i have to go. there will be sand beneath our feet. there will be stars looking down on us. in this infinite sky...

oh the gypsy in me

happy tomorrows

seeking. restless. sleepless. oh the initial stirrings of wanderlust.

to have left the place that stifled me, to have unloved the things i held dear, to have started the journey in search for myself. that which i had lost. that which i have found once more.

funny how we run away from home, funnier still how we run back. so much things we hate about it and so much more things to love.

because somewhere along the way we realize it isn't the place we're running away from. but the person we've become. or rather, the person we haven't become. the disappointment borne out of undreaming dreams and the hollow sadness of being stuck.

and so we run away. to follow almost forgotten dreams. in search for la dolce vita.

the sweetness of this life comes from knowing that home is where love is. that wherever i go and whenever i decide to pack my bags and head to a place where love resides, that is home.

where will this wanderlust take me now? to distant shores, to a vine covered yellow house perhaps? the beauty that stems from knowing that everything is possible. i smile in glorious anticipation :)

today

today i remembered my grandmother's voice
i heard it clearly
slicing the morning air
i cried as i realized that i will never
hear it again

in memory

the sun has set on an old day
and i will never see her again
the grandma of my youth

the one who would come on our birthdays
and wear her own party hat
who would come on random nights
and visit us when we were little enough
to sit on her lap

the one who braved
the war and dusty bus rides
and robbers
who were chased away with a stick
and pure iron guts

the one who would keep us in her home
during our childhood summers
feeding us, watching us hop and skip
over chalked boxes we drew in her backyard

the one who would play the piano
day and night
the one who would make us play
the chopsticks over and over again

the one who would bring us to the park
every summer afternoon
watching us play
watching us grow
letting us run in full abandon

the one who marveled while i cooked
my first masterpiece
of hot soup with leaves and fish eyes
i got from her kitchen

the one who would take us to the movies
in the middle of the day
making us feel like grown ups
by letting us choose our own seats

the one who had always made me feel like a grandchild
long after i grew up
and who held me in her arms
until i was big enough to hold her

the one who would keep photos of my travels
and listen to my stories
whose spirit and wanderlust didn't flicker
with the coming of her age

the one who would wear bracelets that we've made
like pieces of expensive jewelry
precious against her healthy wrists
we used to hang on to when crossing the streets

the one who would grow old
like i knew she would
someday.

the sun has gone down
the old streets of our youth flash before me
and she is gone

the grandmother i will miss