A Moment of happiness
The hustle and bustle off the big city sits behind in history as life’s cycle closes to sunset. A weak smile in memory of all that has become the façade of this wrinkled, but at the absence of no beauty, face. The birds chirp, the Pitirre heading the group bringing back memories of only a black and white photo can portray. A youthfulness feel to my soul only comparable to the innocence of a newborn’s smile.
I walk, machete at hand, knees “sucias en barro”, saco cargando chinas, and an old book seen through an old guallavera’s pocket. The very same one I once read, when thoughts of happiness was the means America tried to give, thoughts that lead a search for happiness that lead to an abyss of search with no answer.
The sun is setting, I, with the same calmness I used to stroke my Lady Love to sleep at night, walk down the hill. Every so often a car driving by, I want not a ride, I’ll walk. The sand once warmth is as distant as the stars in the sky at this time of the day. Feet sinking in, molding to the figure-full shapes of the sand. I am here, I am there! A long curved palm tree with as many sunsets seen as I. Calmly talking to the breeze as the wind passes by its ramas. The ocean, tickling the sand in an infinity only love can know. The cool breeze, with hints of warmth as it tries to keep to sun from setting, yet again.
A deep breath inhales the soul of mother nature, along with the smell of Doña Toñas cooking, in el fogon next to the aground-years-ago ship wreck. A sight of beauty all on its own. You can still the see the tropic fish swimming to the remains of this old ship. There is silence today, the silence that brings nature and I to a unison where all is I and I all. I delve into my book, trying to read words that no longer mean, but the entrapment of a soul. I’ve left behind all the material possessions I was told meant happiness, for what I am today. Truly happy!
The cool sand covering half my feet, the birds keeping an ever-changing world; constant, the sea breeze caressing a body that once needed the caress of another to feel worth while. The laugher of the sand caused by the tickle of the sea upon its shore, awaking an ever-youthful soul. The hustle and bustle no longer present, lends me the presence of a world that was once sold for home relief, but today I fight to let it free.
The world of Doña Toña, the Pitirre singing, the gaviota searching for fish, the coqui singing us to sleep, the bomba and plena fighting just like I once fought to stay alive, salsa searching for its own right, a world where the mountain is Jibaro absent, taino absent, and African absent, but with a soul that contains them all. A soul that so lies underneath a palm tree awaiting for the sun to set…
A life well lead, a love well lived, a joy never ceased, a happiness only here I can find, a world of fogon, bull drawn wagons, caña fields absent but never the less the essence of what I am today. To live, to love, to laugh, to be happy with thy self, I am here for here is where this boricua was born.
