I have not seen this sea, which you
speak of so fondly every once in a while.
but I'd hear the slowed-down breathing,
the long pause
when you tell stories of old people
that died, of brave men that once
sailed with their boats
to cross vast continents
and then sail again for home
where they’d find their wives and children
waiting for their return.
You are still out there sailing,
and I am here
hoping you'd reach home soon.
I know where that home is.
But you have to fight to get there.
I could wait for centuries
and be still until
you're home finally. Don't fret.
Sail, love, wherever that sea
with its raging current
And when you reach shore,
You'll find me there standing,
waiting for you.
This piece is an interpretation of “Layag Sug”
sent by someone known only as Samantha Buendia.
I am posting with permission.