The Moment I See Your Face
i can steal some more gazes
beside you
i will not be bored in this trip
sliding across the foamy seas
crossing longer bridges
hopping from one island to another
seeing old ancestral houses
made of hardwood
recalling the ormoc disasters
with thousands dead
floating bloating on the river
i see your face again
i have always seen them all over again
i am alive again
i should have been dead years ago
without you
i hold your hand
you look at me
there are no words
on these wanderings
these travels
of thoughts and cares
inside our hearts
the tourist guide speaks
'this is the house he made for her
the shrine and these walls
to protect her from harm'
we are holding each others arms
as we listen
i do not think of walls
neither will i in the future
build them for you
your face is beside mine
the camera clicks
and another picture is taken
now we shall go to another room
the tour guide speaks again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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