Where did your thoughts take you that Sunday morning?
What object did you loose in that treacherous maze?
Where did you go and who inhabits your body?
Where is my love, where’s my love?
What did you do the night we separated?
Who pushed you away, why weren’t we together?
Why do I feel so empty in this helpless mode?
Where is my soul? Where is my soul?
Big round eyes were looking
with their yellow flowers and their honey skin;
watermelons on their heads forcing ironic jokes.
Where is my home? Where is my home?
They made tea for this cool night
and asked me to remember what it was like
to be my own.
Then left me blank in a dead silence
semi-dark, surreal, quiet…
the intoxicating smell of background Marley:
“No, woman, no cry.”
They asked me to remember
happiness inside, peace inside.
My spirit struggling to keep its own,
my heart nagging with every breath.
You must remind me of what the mind forgot.
Where is my own? Where is my own?
And you left the way you came: unassuming, calm.
The face I thought I knew, wearing fresh smiles.
That a rose is a rose, but why so early?
Bring me my love. Bring me my love.
By tuttysan © 2007
Hide and seek, a poem.