And she’s been asking,
Where is the love that she has found?
In the trees that seem talk
Of crawling creatures, pitiful and yet purposeful
The breeze, the typhoons, the torrents
which come and go
The nature depicting art,
which can never be created
But is there existing.
And where has the love gone by?
In the smile that lights up faces
The gaze that is penetrating
The look that is simple and profound
In the heart that radiates
of joy, of simple joys
In the words that are woven
That fall within periods. comma,
The phrases, the sentences
that collide and create
In the poetry that defies.
Where have been the people that taught?
The platforms that served a stage
In the classroom where all the fun started
The start has just begun
And may it never be forgotten
It is not only in schools,
within the walls that speak
The parks that refresh people
The society that seems to always change,
Still stands as the same cradle
That she has been
But the first place, the first home,
that is then the real beginning.
Where has the love that visited?
In that house that is shared
The things intangible which teach
The sacrifice, the sharing, the selfless giving
Where has the love that mayhap
has to be re-visited?
She continues asking
The present makes her not learn,
the things that have been always there.
Written on 11 February 2015 in Rome
Photo by imagesthai from Pexels