From this Place, Where I Wait
From this place, where I wait
I can hear the waves thrashing like beating fists
Undefeated, seeking justice, against the rock of the goddess.
Upon the wind, the sea delivers, in churning foam
The sweet aroma of her birth.
This scent intoxicates me.
Life. Love. Beauty.
x

x
There are voice's all around me.
Lamentations of the fallen, requiems of the innocent.
Wailings, whisperings. Murmurs in the fog.
The names of loved ones, echoing, searching.
I am cold, here in this sweltering desert, where I wait
But one tree ~ looms.
Shading my soul from the darkness. Offering light to the lost.
Branches extended, pleading, sprouting secrets, that cannot be heard.
x
I could taste the salt of your tear drops, stinging
Burning, as they hit the flame, within the shrine
That you built, for me, in the corner of the kitchen, on that day.
Sizzling sorrows in a timeless expanse of agony.
I wait, as the ghosts of dark haired, virgin daughters,
blush upon my grave.
They beckon, for me, to join them, dancing in circles, mourning, weeping
For a life ~ that will never be.
x
x
Once known to me, but now of strangers, is this land.
All these years. I was right here. I felt your presence. That day.
The cascading white petals, of your flowers,
sparkled down through my spirit
And covered my place, like a blanket of snow, unexpected warmth,
in the cool black earth.
Love is Imperishable. Indestructable. Incorruptible. Tenacious.
Like a magnet my essence pulls you North. To this place.
I knew you would come. The waiting is over.
It is time, for you, to take me home.
x
________________________________
About the poem:
Tony's older brother Pavlos, went missing in action during the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974. Recently, a mass grave was dug up close to the green line that divides the country in half. One side is greek and one side is now Turkish. The unmarked grave was dug under a tree. It is the only tree to be seen for miles, within that desert of nothingness. It is also the tree where Tony's mother layed her flowers a few years ago ~ not knowing ~ where her son might be. She placed them upon the branches of that tree. The tree above the grave where Pavlos and lost members of his troop are now believed to have been buried. I wrote this poem in the voice of Pavlos. I was touched by the energy of this story. How did his mother know? Tony's family was also very touched by this poem. They are going to have this published in Cyprus ~ as a memorial to all the missing sons, fathers, brothers....