Saturday, January 23, 2016


I have tasted of your juices,
I have savored of your scents.
So your scents are in my nostrils,
And your tastes upon my tongue.

I have breathed in. Inhalation
Has carried you within me.
I have breathed out. Exhalation
Has given you my love.

It is said that we are mindful
Of the things that are at hand.
But with distance, there's a longing
That the lovers understand.
I have lusted for your textures,
I have yearned for all your sights.
I have dreamed of you in daytime,
I have tossed for you at nights.
Has my love been unrequited?
That only you can know.
I have felt your heartbeat quicken,
I have seen your motions slow.
Your were near and yet were distant.
You are far and yet are near.
And your absence is a presence
That is hard for me to bear.
When I left you for another,
Did you notice, did you cry?
Did you ask then for a reason?
Did you ever wonder why?
No, you didn't even notice,
For you'd hardly notice me,
Who was one of many millions
That by chance had come to be.
But you gave me life and fed me,
And I grew beneath your sky.
And I never really left you,
Though it seems that now I lie.
For you are my native country,
You're the land of all my dreams.
Though I seem to be so distant,
It isn't what it seems.
You are with me still in music.
I can hear you in my voice.
In my exile, you are in me.
So I dream, and I rejoice.
As a tree, that is uprooted
And is planted in a soil
That is foreign, may not flourish,
So the worker and his toil.
As a mite upon your body,
As a mote upon your skin,
I was one you'd hardly notice,
But I've borne you in my soul.
As the years have stretched to many,
And the memories start to fade,
I can delve within and find you,
So I once again am whole.
2016 January 23rd, Sat.10:25 pm
Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York
For a more rational view of this, see the short piece:  Exile--II
For a rather wistful, resigned reflection on this, see: Exile  


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