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Beneath the frozen dome of a late December, I learned with melancholy
That those who gave me wings are not the titans I summoned in my childhood dreams,
But two earthlings, stirring my dreams into an aura, breathing whims of ice and smoke into the cauldron of my being.
And in that harsh month of ice, when my soul huddled beneath the timid dawns,
The mug of hot chocolate by my bed becomes a herald, laden with unspoken words,
The warmth of a mother saying without words how much you need to warm yourself at life's bosom,
And I, unknowingly trampling over gifts with ignorance, with a silent longing buried in routine.
Oh, how I wish I had known how to unravel the thread of love, for it is an art crushed by the weight of the earth,
It struggled through dungeons of misunderstandings, attempted, I understand now, to tear down the cold walls between us,
I would like to take back the harsh words, the disputes that scratched the delicate veil of our connection,
But I was only a dandelion in the wind's path, a child who did not understand that this play is most earnest.
And as I step towards the dawn of a new phase, at last aware,
I realize there are no castles without shadows, that each family is a legacy of forgiveness and forgetting,
Love, an ancient coin that we are still learning to pay the right price for, it starves us and sometimes satiates,
And now, I see that it, always trying to mend what we have torn, still extends the thread back to me.
I would have liked to have been more whole, to have answered the call of her heart with honesty, without denial,
But reality knocked me down with fragments of walls, and I remained there, a child with the world on his shoulders,
Stripped of excuses and pretexts, with an open heart to the truth - all that have made us what we are today.
When I retreat into the hearth of the night, I find the blanket spread over me, hiding my fleshly embarrassments,
And when I look up at the sky, maybe I erred, but in the infinite blue I understand that it is never too late,
Life without those pawns who ignited the spark in the archers on the chessboard is inconceivable to me,
And no matter how fate weaves and unravels, everything started with them,
And an overwhelming sense holds me, that it will all end with them too.
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