My friend and I had planned to go out for this Wednesday walk. Last night just around midnight I got a message from her that her mom passed on. I couldn't be with her due to covid restrictions (only families allowed) but the memories she has of this neighborhood (which she may have to leave) made me write this.
It was a walk down memory lane, yeah I walked for an hour but with her words running in my mind. This young lady lost her husband at the age of 28 (she was married at the age of 19) and raised her 3 children all by herself. In her life of loneliness her parents were her only support, her dad passed on this last January. So bear with me as I pour my heart out about times past.
A hundred times have I walked these paths,
A million dreams have I cherished in my heart,
Cradled in thoughts and imagination,
Like wasted sand they lie,
Unnoticed and trodden beneath the feet,
Edging these well tarred roads.
Longings of the heart,
Forgotten in the realities of today,
Silenced by the rush of life,
In a race that never reduces its pace,
Until the breath within ceases!
Many a tear had fallen here,
Tears of shattered dreams,
Unwillingly sacrificed,
On the altar of life,
Dreams cherished in tenderness,
Nourished in copious faith,
Now scattered like ,
The husk blown in the wind,
Dreams of a child to fly in chariots,
Winged with giggles and innocence,
Brought straight the portals of heaven.
Then there were dreams that became trees,
Planted by tender hands,
Simple visions of hammocks,
Swinging brightly in the wind
As hearts that quiver with joy unsurpassed.
Now they wait not hammock bound,
Because my childish dreams were foolish,
This is no beach, its just a city
No one sleeps in hammocks here, its a pity!
Who made these rules I ask myself
Who wrote these in the books?
"No one," comes the answer from within,
"these unwritten rules are to
protect you from the mockery of others."
I was happy as a child,
When it mattered not what people thought,
Today I am bound by their expectations,
Even though these people matter not!
Every simple dreams lie scattered now,
Expectation and tradition bound!
I walk past the trees down the road,
Near the houses that once stood proud ,
Painted for years with negligence,
Age threatening to tear their stones apart ,
The happy relics of yester-years,
These nests of love and life,
Whence people gave of themselves,
Not their possessions,
Their hands extended spoke,
Of their faith in life,
Never thinking of themselves,
Only spreading the fragrance,
Of their generosity,
Expecting nothing back!
There were neighbors all around,
More like family
People who knew you for who you were,
And what were going through,
They brought from their pots,
Before they fed their family,
Because you were entertaining friends,
And your hands were full
Waiting on their needs!
At the turn of the road
Stands the old church
Washed away by the sands of time
Now just a ghost of the past,
A memory of prayers that went up,
Like the incense at the altar,
For every life that was brought forth here,
Every marriage dream that was birthed,
For every corpse that was laid at the altar
As prayers for comfort those left behind
With an intensity unknown arose!
Has that faith been lost forever
In the chilling winds of time?
Life so full and throbbing once,
Now like a machine runs,
Where once at every turn,
We were met by smiling friends,
Walk we now with fear of muggers
Cameras lurk at every corner,
To protect our once friendly town,
Where we once trusted and loved,
We trend everyday in fear!
This walk of mine brings tears to my eyes,
Friends have now become strangers,
We know not who is hidden within whom,
What lurks behind those smiles,
Or behind those sweet words,
what poison lies;
In those once warms hands held out,
we fear what daggers lie.
Hollow laughter rings aloud,
No warmth it brings our hearts,
Emptiness rising to the skies
What has become of life,
of faith I think;
Whats become of peoples' hearts
Have we changed so much,
That we cannot have a simple talk,
I have walked for an hour now,
Not a warm voice I have heard,
The masked faces now have found their privacy,
Lost forever the warmth of the human smile,
That set our race apart!
The human face that was once a pleasant sight,
Now hidden securely behind,
A piece of cloth now a stranger makes,
Of once who was a friend.
What a walk is this I wonder,
Time, please take me me back,
Into the folds of your golden past,
Where I want this torture to end.
Let me walk the streets again,
Carefree, friendly and smiling,
And maybe lie in a hammock there,
Amongst the trees a dreaming,
Maybe for just a few moments dare,
To live like old times without a care!
All images and words used are mine. I didn't take any pictures today, my mind was all over the place. I just used some from my archives of walks past.