Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Native home

Returning to ones' root
is crucial in the life
of those who had to leave
their birth country.
The sun is the same,
the sky too, mountains are high
but eventually they meet. 
The moon makes a trip
every twenty four hours.
This is to remind me, you, us
that distance does not exists
if we have the love for the earth
that heard our first cries,
our first laughs or our first
bad luck.  Oh how I miss the smells,
the noise even the calamities of that
small town or borough where I first
opened my eyes and knowing that
I might not see or feel again the air
of my native home, I cry the silent
tears just like the old warriors did
a long time ago....

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