I like my winters "neat" ...
But they all come "on the rocks" here
So a day will come when palms will dominate my view
Instead of evergreen trees and pine cones and juniper bushes
(Though I do love my Chickadees, Cardinals and Juncos)
I grew up here and skiing was my life ... once
As soon as I walked, I skied ...
Freestyle, moguls, powder, and air
The bigger the jump, the better, always pushing limits
But I have lived in the tropics as well
My heart yearned for it long before I went
And I realized home-away with my first breath of Caribbean air
The white sand beaches of St. Croix
The swaying palms and smell of sugar cane on the wind
Those incredible waters and reefs, teeming with colorful life
I adored it there, but couldn't stay ...
I lived a few months in Florida, and then back home to Boston
I have made no accords on unknowns like "reincarnation"
I believe the "big" spiritual questions to be just that - unknown
Faith itself INSISTS on a lack of knowledge or explanation
But I have dreamed of the South Pacific since my earliest memories
Long before I'd read or heard about it
Long before I'd seen a movie or television show of it
And though I've yet to go there
I have very distinct memories of it
Specific memories that include faces and sounds and flavors
Even the special way the sun shines on the underside of the clouds
The way the volcanic mounts bite up from the aqua seas
Nipping their dark, earthy teeth into azure heavens
And the way the sweet breath of the palms and fruits
Mixes with the dusty trade winds from Australia
To dance on the palate with each inhalation
Seems we humans always want what we don't have
And I'm sure there are many there who long for America
But a part of me is there, a part I haven't met
And I must at least try to make it
Or always ... wonder.
Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2018