WANDERLUST: Elegy for Hazel

Northern Lights

I want to see the Northern Lights with you.

My throat was stumbling words
like  a heavy traffic of thoughts
on a rocky road of confidence
just to spit out that sentence.

There were butterflies dancing
inside my chest; once a ballroom
occupied by numerous caterpillars
exchanging their abnormalities
to hate, to love, to envy, to cry
and who would thought,
I fell in love to a worm
with no wings but many wishes.

I saw Northern lights, a magic
on your eyes, it was like
a rainbow of stars gathered
to meet themselves and share
their glows, and I hadn’t do
anything but to stare
endlessly to the night sky,
to the universe and fall in love
many times, again and again.

Let’s see the Northern Lights together.

It was your reply.

You smiled like stretching my heart
into an unidentified level of joy;
you made me happy, the stars winked,
the butterflies grooved and the music
played into a romantic chorus,
it was very magical.

To Iceland.

To the stairway of Northern Lights.

Dream to reality, it was
very memorable to have someone
you could share your happy moments
and milestones, take a whiskey
and lay wherever can be called home,
on cold ground, on top of car,
watching the Northern Lights
like there was no tomorrow.

We saw the Northern Lights.

We saw the Northern Lights.

We saw the Northern Lights.

But not together.