For Papa Gregorio

And then I finally reached
The narrow mouth of the river
That you told me about

And I was left with no choice
But to sail right there
On this wooden boat that you
Left me

I did it and here I am getting on
The sight of an island
A bountiful island with brooks
And green grass and
Coconut trees and
Lanzones trees

I am here finally
In accordance with the maps of your dreams
And tonight
I look at your sky
And I see the hundred smiles
Of your glittering stars

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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