Ballade on Leavetaking
#31 of poetry
I'll be in my sixties before I'll have spent more time out of long distance relationships than in them. And that's assuming that my long distance relationships all become non-long-distance tomorrow.
I saw a hilltop, years ago
Half-toppled with continuous gust,
And every time that breeze would blow-
This is not boring you, I trust-
The grass reached up in wanderlust
For where the wind and I would track.
My shoes still smell of that hill's dust,
So that's why I'll be coming back.
To orchards, where the crimson plums
Are bursting with unearthly wine,
To waterfalls where liquid drums
Forever beat out seamless time,
To cities underneath their grime
On minarets or sunk in slums:
To everywhere the sun does shine,
So that's why I'll be coming back.
And when I really say farewell,
In twilight on some western shore,
When nobody has plans to tell
The news about me anymore,
Know this: we crossed this sea before.
Though my place lies beyond the black
In this side lives what I adore,
So that's why I'll be coming back.
Prince, your hospitality
Upon this earth is all I lack.
Your welcome built a home for me,
So that's why I'll be coming back.