sábado, 3 de mayo de 2014


New vistas call to me
unrolling maps through my mind
calling my self to escape its skin.

I can almost clasp souls
with the lives around me

in a city whose pulse
seeks the rhythm of my wandering legs
upon the crest of a hill
where my throat aches for sweet stone waters.

But always I hold myself back, tethered to waiting,
needing you beside me, in that city, on that hilltop

selves joined at last
and calling out
doors and windows opening
to spirits pouring in.

Author: Jolene Sabetha

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