Something
about the way
the ground felt
on her American heels
Unsteady, but ready
Emotions of a new path ran through her toes
Each step
The feeling of raw earth
Like a child learning to walk
Voices filled her
Heart.
Her grandmother’s
sister, brother, best friend
Sounded like roots
Familiar, but distant
Loving
With a strength
that stayed with her.
More than just memories
Scents seeped into her mind
Ginger chai with tulsi leaves and fresh mint
were her aunt’s prayers in the morning
pencil shavings and old book pages
and she was beside her cousins who studied until late hours of the night
Folds of silk saris,
bowls of turmeric,
gasoline seeping from rickshaws
and she was at the market
drinking fresh coconut water with her mother.
Something
about the way
the air fell on her skin
that encompassed the rhythm of a whole city
of a place that started
to feel like
home.
spiritual or something
kind of like…
visiting a past life
she was still living in.
This rhythm…
that was hard to find a genre for
wasn’t the jazz of NY,
or new age of California
It was complex
Like some underground joint no one ever heard of
mixed with
a beat she couldn’t get out of her head,
lyrics that she started humming,
Like a song she always knew.
it was just…
something…
She always knew.
