Flying on the wings of time, Arriving at the house Of my childhood. Feeling tired, Starving for affection All doors are close, No arms extended. Eager to embrace me, My soul impregnated With melancholic feelings. Where are the long nights Curled in grandma's lap? Exiting to my infantile imagination, Listening to stories About those before me, Becoming alive in my fertile mind. .....
I see my silver temples now, I feel the warm body Of my granddaughter, Curled in my lap. Wide open eyes Expecting in wonder, To hear the old family stories > About those before her.
