There was a house on my memory

It was my grandmother’s house

Special and humble Refuge

Where siblings, cousins, neighbors and friends

found cold water, warm food and hot coffee.

 

The house was big and unfinished

Witness of a better and unknown past

Reminder of happy times

When we used to dream

in the same time zone.

 

I remember smells, sounds and flavors

Tight to the house like the soul to the body,  

Little details coming to my mind

The aroma to pineapple and papaya dessert,

The delicious guavas growing up in the backyard,

the noise of the plastic sandals

that my grandmother used to wear,

noise so annoying thirty year ago,

today endearing and unforgettable.

 

I have been dreaming with come back

But nothing is the same

She is not there,  

The house lost its soul.

 

New owners cut the guava tree

Arched windows were removed

They put cement in the garden

Killing all plant that one day

Used to lived there

 

What can I do?

Just rebuild the house

In some corner of the world

Where people can feel safe

loved and satisfied

hoping that some day

when I am not here

someone will remember my house

like a refuge, this will be my gift to the world.