I think this is possible;
I wish to go for a walk
in the place where I am most myself,
in the landscape that once cradled me.
I wonder if it is missing me
like I miss it. The sense of wandering,
the source of which is lost. What is this place
that made me diverge from myself. Two paths,
two places. Today and tomorrow.
I am folding the horizon
Inception-style, and the trees lose their roots
but gain potential. The canopy fans out
and fingers the bubbles of blue between the clouds.
And they burst, burst with life. And I will walk,
walk until I meet myself again.
Will the trees sit in silent acceptance,
missing their freedom. Or will lichened arms
cradle me and remind me of my strength,
of how I wish to leave this place
that has made me diverge from myself.
If I fold the landscape, perhaps
its is possible, I think.
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Photo By Antonio López
Jalmurra 