ghazal- hoshi

I remember when you told me the story of a land,

A land you held dear, a land from your memory.

You said the morning sun was never visible in this land,

Because the fog was all you could see from your memory.

You said the hills were covered with alder trees,

That you could almost smell the forest, from your memory.

You said the grasslands exist so souls do not lose their way,

But you have never seen the other side, even from your memory.

You only taught me good things about this land,

So I looked far and wide for this land from your memory.

The morning sun is now visible; it sits above the blanket of fog,

And sun is no longer defeated by the fog, from your memory.

The alder forest now lives under concrete houses,

But I would have liked to see the forest from your memory.

The grasslands are now places for men the hide and ambush,

The path of the soul, now exist only in your memory.

But you tell me, worry not child with the ‘ro’ in her name

For this land will exist, if only in your memory.