Years after years, I packed and unpacked my share of belongings… Today I only left with my heart and Soul. And a choice to breathe in exile and still be happy… repost
The woman,
Has been sitting
Under a shower of rain,
On an empty bench
Having a meeting with
A shadow of her past.

Her mind travels back in time,
Passes all stop signs,
All roads that she had crossed,
All faces she had shared
Corner of her smile
Or drop of her tears.

All places
She had packed and unpacked,
Her half empty suitcases marked
With all different tags.

She arrived to her final destination,
The edge of the old dreams,
Old forgotten wounds.

The times in her life,
That colour of pomegranate
Was the highlight of her day,
And hide and seek,
Her favourite game.

To her school mates,
With all theirs jokes and laughs.
And loneliness of her heart at end of the nights.

To the land, she grew up in,
With no sense or a desire to belong.
And the legacy that sent her to exile,
First time she asked for the justice,
for a nonjudgmental act.

The memories revive,
The ones she tried so hard
To erase.

Yes, it has been a long exile.

The day, she departed,
They didn’t ask, how could one survive
The burden of exile,
Year after year,
Outside of the ordinary life.
In the empty desert
With no roots to hold on to.

She answered,
their unasked question,
Over and over
By rearranging her dreams,
By giving away her attachments,
By having faith in her call, staying true to her heart,
By living an extra ordinary life.

But how could one erase
the mark of the path of tears,
Over years, on her anonymous face?

The arrival of haunted memories,
Opens up the old wounds,
Pierces the remaining of her burnt heart
with no sense of kindness or compassion.

The need to search,
Beyond right and wrong,
Beyond reality and dream,
Beyond visible and invisible
Never left her thirsty heart.

Deep down, she knows
She never returns
To the legacy she had left behind.
Exile within her soul
Is the only place,
She belongs.

© Serena Devi, Jan 2010, Thornhill Canada