POEM
…without knowing why
by the sound of the gondolas
knocking against their mooring poles
in Piazza San Marco
the old houses with names
in cold misty London
lit balconies in the evenings
in the stately neighborhoods
of Madrid
the waltzes of Chopin
La Campanella by Liszt
Il campo dei miracoli
of Pisa
Mi retiro
by Rizal
the Philippine fields
the faces of my children
Paco Cemetery
in Old Manila
Gedächtniskirche in Berlin.
..and how many lives might I have lived
how many loves lost
how many deaths suffered
because beauty moves me
whether arrived as a gift, or a loss
because I live on nostalgia
and vague hopes
…because I live.
.
