Reunion

all we want is to connect
to be a part of something
a family, a history
the story of life itself
but we don't know how
so we obsess over our iphones
hoping for some glimpse of human connection
we go to church and feel God
feel a part of something outside ourselves
take mind-altering drugs
and drown ourselves in alcohol
poisons that blur the disconnect
maybe its all a matter of opinion
who am I to judge what is better and worse.
You know, I can't help but convince myself
 that I am right
and they're all wrong.

because I've seen just a glimpse
the story of why I am who I am
why my mother raised me to be thoughtful
and how her mother, her grandmother,
her great-grandmother did the same.
I cherish the stories, the similar noses,
the deep hugs, the love of strangers
I feel inextricably connected to.

She drew me close
to make out the shape of my eyes
through her own aging, worn eyes,
saying how much I resemble
the woman I love so dearly.
She called me beautiful
then posed with a smirk,
"well, of course she is,
look who she takes after!"

And, another, she rides motorcycles.
the others fear her boldness.
she says what she means
not too sweet, but not too sour.
she knows of her autonomy
but recognizes how limiting it can be
drawing her to adventures here and there
cold dips in mountain pools
sweet, delicious mangoes in faraway places
the eyes of someone who needs something she has
and stories aplenty to captivate
to share, to teach the next generation
what it means to be a human.

so I go home, still unsure of what that word means
but its land and its people,
I am forever entwined with.
and the orange glow of the sunset
illuminates the trees like never before
the trees rest on the land of the old neighbors
the ones who have no one to give the land they love to
he notices the setting sun, the ending of the day
and I wish I could be the loved one
he passes his home unto.