I know a worried, old woman
whose children have left her behind
for the promise of good fortune
across the sea.
With an oracle’s gray eye
she watches a place gone lonely,
waiting for the miracle
that would bring back her lost treasure.
Like her, scanning the coast,
keeping watch, my mind races;
slipping through a window
that opens onto eternity...
A day comes
when our life runs out of promise;
yet like winter revived by spring
our future blooms
in our children.