MY GRANDMOTHER'S HOUSE
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.