The sidewalk had traces of pink and yellow chalk,
sounds echoed of hopscotch played yesterday.
My footsteps heavy,
sadness in my heart
locked away.
I thought about the war,
sirens in the night,
a ladybug crawling on my arm.
There was a boy in school,
with big brown eyes,
his locks curled gently.
He never saw me,
he was three years older.
I knew love would come one day,
exquisite,
heartbreaking,
glorious love.
We left home
my brothers grown,
they attempted to shield me
from scraped knees,
broken bones and reality.
They could not see
how sad my smile was,
how deep my thoughts.
We crossed the ocean
and planted our lives
like roots of a tree into a
new society.
I was mesmerized at the pace,
macaroni and cheese in
a blue and yellow Kraft box,
television loud with color and life.
There were egg shaped tape players,
and boats bobbing in the bay.
The sound of the waves in the ocean
lulled me to sleep.
I was dreaming
waiting to grow up.
ha. there comes an age when we all are just waiting to grow up..made me think of those first forays into love as well..and infatuation...it was not too long back that i ran into one of my first infatuations at a football game...my how we all have changed...smiles.
ReplyDeleteI like the look back to the start of your journey, exciting and challenging times ~ Despite the sadness, your family has planted the roots of a tree deeply into the new country ~ Hope you are well ~
ReplyDeleteAh, and don't we all anticipate growing up and true love in our life. Your poem gives a glimpse into your early life and expresses anticipation of future so very well.
ReplyDeleteugh, I remember those days... I couldn't wait to turn 21... still waiting on the true love tho..
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed hearing your unique childhood memories, including war and emigration and of the boy with brown eyes and curly hair.
ReplyDeleteThis is so touching, sad. How rude the awakening from our childhood hopes and how awful that war robs so many little ones of their childhood.
ReplyDeleteChildhood memories are often marred by the harsh realities of growing up. Yet, at times those moments are welcome and being a grown up is necessary. Lovely words.
ReplyDeletesuch a time full of wonders and vulnerability when we grow up - and i can imagine the excitement entering a new land and new culture - most important though to be there with someone you love
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed this "flashback" of a poem. A first infatuation is always remembered …
ReplyDeleteThis waiting to grow up I can relate to, to have to grow new roots is something I can only imagine...
ReplyDeleteA child's locks of hair...subject of many a poem I think for the innocence and loveliness of it...symbol of inborn strength..very nice.
ReplyDeleteAh.. the travels of innocence lost and found in the curls of strands of wherever the winds of change brush away the knots of time..:)
ReplyDeletethe reference to chalk on the sidewalk makes me think of my own kids.
ReplyDeleteThe chalk on the sidewalk instantly transported me ... BTW, I am still waiting.
ReplyDeletePoetically, you wove a wondrous tapestry of childhood.
ReplyDeleteAyala, what a wonderful story and very clever way to weave hair into it :-)
ReplyDeleteI hope we never really grow up and always let the inner child in us run a bit wild. A lovely poem Ayala filled with emotions.
ReplyDeleteThis reads like the beginning to a lovely coming of age story. And from what I've read of your work, love did come!
ReplyDeleteYour poems are always so evocative.
ReplyDeleteGrowing-up is highly overrated. :)
ReplyDeleteA lovely way to tell a story: weaving together sadness and growing up and emigrating and abandoned hopscotch and brown eyes.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely tale of hopes and dreams, of change and life. I hope that in this change you have found both the love that you imagined, and happiness in this new place.
ReplyDeleteI agree - a lovely story told in a poem
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem!
ReplyDeleteThe sound of the waves in the ocean
ReplyDeletelulled me to sleep.
I was dreaming
waiting to grow up.
It is great to look back and wonder. There is so much anticipation and yearnings! Good one ayala!
Hank
I love the mix of emotions and imagery and that nostalgic feeling you encounter when you think about a moment from your past. Well done, Ayala.
ReplyDeletei am still waiting to grow up ;)
ReplyDeleteYou took me back to those dreams - that love would be wonderful!
ReplyDelete