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Going Back – Promote Yourself


mountains

going back

raiko,
without you
i choose
to go on
by tracing back
the path
among hills and backfields
along muddy streets
beneath electric wires
spun like spider webs
coated with bird dropping
to be and become again
in that moment
before our eyes
locked each other
shoreline and sea
with crashing ocean waves

countless leaves have fallen,
even the year already changed her names
since our journey began
from those long seasons of waiting
for armors and chains
to be softened and broken
casted off and replaced
with warmth rivaled
only by first fire

forged from long sad ages
those pieces are still there
buried, and waiting
i have to find them
even as i no longer
remember their finals forms
but what remains of their shape
eaten by the delicious mouth
of when you first arrived
might ignite certain memories
allow me to smith them
to new forms
stronger, sharper edges
to serve as shelter and home
from what howls and roams
even under the light of day
from those with silent feet
arriving in the night and cold
held off at bay before
by your own arms

going back
is a shorter journey, as they say:
long this road may be
but i know the bends
their twist and turns
even dark alleys
no longer hide fear
under the light of memories
coming even without my call
and in their worthy company
i could take my time
and savor

—it was here, on this
wide field where hunger
of the flesh enjoyed the feast
of siomai, lumpia, pancakes;
where the thirst of my soul
drank from the cup filled
with the intoxicating wine
of your smiles…

—there, on that very spot
where we abruptly stopped
to look up and gaze
upon the moon and stars
deep in the belly of the city
we laughed when others
curiously followed our eyes
seeing everything,
and yet nothing
of what we did see…

the memories are many…

…but they are all that i have.

and yet i will go on
with my face and my shadow
even as i wonder
where are you now?!
i know we share the same sky
but not the same clouds.

in between rest stops
after I close my eyes
but before I go to sleep
i will delve and seek out
for that secret province
in the country of my soul
where stands a simple house
and inside
an ordinary wooden box
within whose halls
waits a simple map
that charts the path
not for me nor for you
to follow
alone.

-d. steine

About poetreecreations

I am an author writer publisher web administrator I run poetry workshops in the community. My published Manners childrens poetry book can be found at www.waterstones.com

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